Fate Once More
by Winged Knight
Summary: It was supposed to be over, Heaven's Feel was finished. But old sins never stay buried forever. Something familiar has arisen from the depths of the past, and as the mystery unfolds the world welcomes the next Holy Grail War.
1. Brand New Song and Dance

Fate/Once More

Brand New Song And Dance

The old man took off his broad brimmed hat and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, taking away the sweat that had gathered. The summer heat was brutal, and even worse it was muggy. Such was always the case during Japan's rainy season. Even under the shade of the tree he stood under the heat seeped into his skin like syrup. The sound of cicadas simply worsened the stifling atmosphere, a never-ending drone that wore on the senses if you paid too much attention to it.

"It's been a while," he said softly, putting his hat back on his head as he stared down at the grave. It was worn and ill cared for, but the inscription still legible all the same.

**Matou Kariya.**

He sighed and lifted some water with a ladle from the bucket he'd carried over, careful not to spill any on the suit jacket draped in his opposite hand as he splashed it on the tombstone. The dust washed away, he set up the incense and lit it, coughing a little at the smoke as he laid the flowers down.

"It's been a long while, Kariya. I'd have visited more often, but it's a long trip and I'm sad to say I'm not as young as I used to be."

He stood there in silence, praying for the young man as the cicadas continued their chirping song. It was several minutes before he spoke again, nothing higher than a whisper as he looked over the tombstone.

"Didn't even bury you with the rest of the family." His expression shifted, sadness bleeding away to a mixture of regret and anger. "I'm not even sure if you're buried here at all, you poor boy."

He knelt down again, waving the incense smoke away. Old joints creaked with the effort of doing this motion again so soon, but he ignored it. He was used to the various aches and pains. They were old friends he'd lived with for a very long time, constant companions to help remind him he was still alive.

"You tried so hard to redeem this rotten family, and look what you got for it. Nothing but pain and an early death." He tilted his hat over his eyes, hiding them as the tears ran down his cheeks. "I should have been there, Kariya. I shouldn't have been so far away. I learned too late, and I'm sorry."

He put a hand on the tombstone, as if trying to touch the man buried underneath. But all he felt was stone under his time worn hand, rough and unyielding.

"I'm so, so sorry."

The pain struck quickly, like flame on his flesh. He gasped and pulled his hand from the stone, clutching it to his chest as he fell to the ground. He didn't feel it as he hit, didn't feel anything except the torture wracking his body. It was his entire world, blocking out sound and blurring sight. His breath came in short bursts as spots danced before his eyes, and as the world spun a part of him wondered if his heart had finally decided to give out.

_Wait,_ he thought as the agony died down and thinking became easier. _That's not my heart… My hand?_

Flat on his back, his clothes covered in dust from his fall, he looked at his hand.

"What on earth?

o\O/o

Waver Velvet grumbled as his pen slashed across the paper, correcting yet another essay his students had left at his feet while they gallivanted off to enjoy their summer break. He read further before marking another portion of the paper, his growling becoming ever more fierce as he chewed on his cigar, smoke filling the office before spilling out the small window on the other side of the room. He had to stop himself from tearing into the page with his pen, and with an extreme act of will set the utensil aside.

"Punctuation is important, dammit!" he muttered before leaning back, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off an incoming headache. He rested there for a few minutes, collecting his thoughts.

"You would think," he said to no one, his eyes still closed. "That the head of the Archibald clan, Lord El Melloi II, would be able to assign someone else to do this."

His chair leaned back with him, and he had to grab his desk quickly as the chair leg bumped into one of the many books littering his workspace. He glowered at it, taking another deep puff on the cigar as he observed his office. Bookshelves dominated the walls, and thick tomes covered every square inch of the large oak desk he sat behind. You could barely even see the floor, or the rug covering it, under the mass of leather bound paper. The only exception was his personal lab, a small thing, set in the corner near the window. That was as spotlessly clean as an operating table.

"Or at least be able to get a bigger office," he said with a sigh.

_Of course,_ Waver mused to himself as he looked for his discarded pen. _It's not like I'm really the clan head. Keaira wouldn't let me have that kind of power._ He paused in his search, deep in thought. _Though I guess it's not a bad thing, really. She gets to deal with most of the politics._

"Though it wouldn't kill her to spend some more time with me," he said aloud. "We're supposed to be married."

He spotted his pen on the floor to his right. The gold plated thing had rolled off the table when he'd jarred it earlier. He scowled at the offending instrument. It was out of reach, but he didn't want to wade through his office to go get it.

He lifted his hand, and with a pulse of power called to the iron core underneath the golden cover. It flew gently through the air and into his hand. He smiled a bit at it, reminiscing over where he'd gotten it.

"She does give nice presents, though. So I guess she really does love me."

The pen dropped from his fingers as the pain hit him, forcing Waver to curl up on himself as his muscles locked up. His body struck the desk hard, knocking several books over, but he didn't notice it. He didn't even notice when he bit through his cigar, the ash-laden tip smearing the table with a streak of black. The only thing he knew was the agonizing fire carving itself into his right hand.

After several grueling minutes that felt like an eternity the pain finally subsided. Waver gulped down air as the last few echoes of it faded and looked at his hand. His eyes widened in shock.

"That's not possible."

o\O/o

"Man, I'd forgotten how hot it gets in Fuyuki," Shirou whispered as he shaded his eyes from the sun. He'd only been walking for a few minutes out of the train station, but he was already sweating. He wiped an arm across his forehead and tugged his collar a little to let some air in, sighing in relief as it cooled him off a little. "The University isn't even that far away, so why is it so much warmer here?"

Naturally, no one answered, and Shirou smiled a little at the silliness of talking to himself. But it kept his mind off of the heat, and its not like there were too many people walking around to give strange looks at the tall young man muttering to himself. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and kept walking, his smile growing wider.

The bag didn't cause him any trouble, though it was packed with most of his clothes. He'd filled out over the years, growing taller and broader. Not to mention tanner, his skin darkened a little from working outside in the sun. He couldn't stay inside and study all the time. And most of the work he did to support his schooling took place in the open air anyway.

_Although,_ he thought to himself. _My skin tone only got noticeably different after that last trip abroad…_

He cut off that line of thought quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. There were some things he didn't want to think about, didn't want to immerse himself too deeply into. This was supposed to be a happy time. He didn't want to taint it with bad memories.

He closed his eyes for a second, switching gears to something more pleasant.

"It'll be good to see Sakura again," he said softly, making steady progress toward the bridge that connected each side of the city to each other. "And Rin. Ilya too." He snickered a little. "I'll bet those two have been driving each other crazy while I've been gone."

The bridge was as solid as he remembered as he walked on it, looking off into the Miongawa river as he did so. He stopped halfway across, setting his bag aside and resting on the guardrail, looking out and sinking into older and more pleasant memories.

"Strange how a secret war became one of the best times of my life." He paused, his smile growing bittersweet. "I miss you, Saber."

His left hand erupted in light, burning like it was stuck in an open flame. He clutched it to his chest, his other hand gripping the guardrail. It was the only thing that kept him from falling flat on his face. He held back a scream, clenching his teeth so hard he could have sworn he felt them cracking. The sun was too bright in his eyes, the air not enough to fill his lungs. He was choking on pain, could barely think because of the force of it!

Finally, blessedly, the fury of it faded into a dull ache. Shirou released the guardrail and flopped down, barely managing to sit upright. He inhaled deeply, relishing the feeling of being able to breathe. When his vision cleared he looked at his hand.

There, in the color of blood, rested the familiar markings of the command seals.

"What?"

He blinked, but it was still there. The command seals. The markings that labeled a magus as a candidate for the Holy Grail War, the symbol that granted absolute control over the awesome power of a Servant. The same symbol he'd seen years ago before he'd been sucked into a battle he'd never asked for. But a battle he'd fought all the same.

"That's… No way."

He struggled to his feet, his legs shaking a little as he got his bearings. His eyes never left the back of his hand, never faltered from the three symbols that made the larger whole, shaped like a sword drawn for war.

"How?"

His mind was in turmoil, thoughts racing in a millions directions at once. But one in particular shot past the others, taking the forefront of everything else.

"Saber."

He ran down the street, bag forgotten. He stumbled twice, nearly falling over, but every second he ran brought new strength. And with that strength he pushed harder, forcing himself to move faster. He raced down streets, ignoring lights and jumping away from cars when he needed to. Curses and honking horns blared behind him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that he made it home to see if what he so desperately thought, so desperately hoped, was true.

"Saber!"

He slammed the door to his home open, panting and sweating from his exertion. He swallowed roughly, fighting the urge to sit down and catch his breath. He had to move!

He opened the door to the dining room, but it was empty. Biting back a curse, he ran to every room in turn, moving on when it did not yield what he sought.

"The dojo," he whispered, running off again. He just managed to check his momentum before he slammed into the entrance, instead skidding to a stop just a few inches away.

Hands trembling, he opened the doors.

She was sitting there, legs beneath her and eyes closed in meditation. The sun poured in from one of the windows, highlighting her golden hair. She wore the same simple white blouse and blue dress he remembered, the attire elegant in its simplicity. It suited her. It had always suited her. Her face was serene, lovely like a dream brought on in peaceful sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"Shirou."

His breath hitched, and whatever he had wanted to say caught in his throat. She was there. This was real!

She stood up, looking down at herself and then at him as he moved closer. "You're taller, Shirou, and older. Has it been a long time? I'm not really sure what's going on. I almost thought I'd fallen asleep… Shirou? Are you all right?"

He couldn't restrain himself any more. He hugged her, enveloping her smaller form with his own and pulling her close.

"Saber," he whispered, holding her tightly. "You're here. You're really here."

His embrace tightened briefly as Saber slowly, almost awkwardly, hugged him back.

"Yes," she said, leaning in to him. "I am."

Still holding her, Shirou pulled away a little, looking in to her eyes. Green, like he remembered. A beautiful green. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. She blushed slightly, her cheeks reddening, but didn't resist. She moved with him, their lips only a hair's width apart.

"Shirou!"

And then Saber pushed him back, sending him flying through the force of it, just in time to dodge the sword that embedded itself where he had stood just moments before.

Shirou gave out a startled cry when Saber pushed him, and another when he saw the sword. He got to his feet in an instant, turning toward Saber. But she was looking at the door to the dojo, her expression like a thundercloud.

"Archer," she growled. Shirou blinked and looked. There, clad in his bright red outfit, stood the gruff, pale haired Servant he remembered. He was juggling a knife, flipping it with one hand as he leaned by the dojo walls and smirking all the while. "What do you think you are doing?"

If anything, Archer's smirk grew larger. "Oh, relax Saber. I didn't mean anything by it. That's just how Shirou and I say hello. Right Shirou?"

Shirou's jaw dropped. He felt like it hit the floor when Rin came in and stomped on Archer's foot, making the taller man to wince.

"Archer! No stabbing Shirou! We discussed this, remember? We're not fighting him."

"Wasn't planning on it," Archer grunted as Rin twisted her heel into his foot.

Rin glared at him suspiciously, but said no more to him as she turned to Shirou and Saber.

"So Saber's here too? That's pretty much everyone, then."

"Wait," Shirou interrupted, finally recovering. "There's more than just Saber and Archer?"

"Take a look outside."

With no small amount of dread, Shirou walked to the door and looked outside. Sakura and Ilya were there in the yard separating the dojo from the house. They smiled at him as he walked out. Or rather, Sakura did. Ilya was much more exuberant. The smaller girl cried out in joy, rushing forward and leaping into his arms.

"Onii-chan!"

Shirou caught her small form easily. She hadn't grown much more than a foot and a half in the last six years. But this was done on reflex, for he was much more distracted by the two figures standing near by.

The first was a hulking, bronze skinned man with a thick mane of black hair. He held a broken stone sword in his hand, looking at everything with an expression so stoic it could have been chiseled from rock. In truth, he felt like a wild beast held back from charging forward at everything around him. But when he observed Shirou with those different colored eyes the familiar madness wasn't there, replaced by something else. It wasn't cultured by any means, but it was more the look of a man than an animal barely under control.

Next to him was a smaller, more petite person. She was dressed, barely, by a scandalous one-piece outfit that presented rather than hid her figure. And it was a fine figure, tall and beautiful like a goddess carved from marble rather than anything so mundane as having grown from childhood. Her long violet hair hung down to her knees, and she looked at Shirou from behind her purple visor. She stood near Sakura, hovering protectively over the girl. For her part, Sakura smiled back at the woman affectionately.

"Rider… Berserker? What?"

"You get it also, right?" Rin said as she stood next to him, Archer at her side. Saber joined Shirou at his free side, eyes widening at the two servants just as Shirou's had. "This isn't possible."

She walked a ways, getting them all in sight as she continued.

"After all, we dismantled the Grail four years ago!"

o\O/o

Everything was covered in shadow, the only illumination coming from the dimmed crystals set into the walls. Deep in that gloom someone chuckled. It was not a pleasant laugh, nor was it one that seemed particularly sane. It was a quiet, halting thing, barely restrained from outright cackling.

In truth, he had to hold himself back from crying out in triumph. He had succeeded! He could feel them, the other Servants bonding with their masters. Years of work, countless resources, had all gone toward this one moment! Everything was finally ready!

He laughter died off as he contemplated that, his smile fading away to his ever-present scowl.

Time, so much time lost in pursuit of his goal. Time. What a cruel thing, that eroding and unstoppable force! Time had taken much from him. But it was not time that had stolen what was most precious. Everything else was meaningless so long as he could get that back.

But now time, and the knowledge he had gained from his sacrifices to it, was his ally. For on this day the impossible had been accomplished. And if it could be done once, why not twice? As many times as needed so long as he reached what he longed for so deeply.

He walked across the rough stone floor, approaching the others hidden in the chamber's minimal light. There were many of them, of every shape and size. Some of them knew each other. Many did not. But all knew why they were there, even if they were confused as to how it had been accomplished. He drew his hands from his voluminous robes, drawing all eyes to him as he spread them out dramatically as he addressed them.

"It is time!"


	2. New and Familiar Faces

Fate/Once More

New and Familiar Faces

"It is time?" an oily, contemptuous voice asked from within the gloom. The man it belonged to stepped forward, making the light gleam off his golden armor. He brushed back similarly colored hair as he glared at the robed man. "What do you mean, dog? I'll not simply sit and humor your cryptic mutterings. Speak clearly!"

"You should be quiet, little Archer," called another voice from the crowd. His own armor, crafted close to fit his muscled form, was the dull color of bronze rather than gold. He rested his spear on his shoulder as he berated the gaudily dressed Servant. "What need have we of such questions? To live is to fight, to strive for one's goal! We don't need to ponder it." He sneered, a cruel smile that made the golden man's frown turn into a scowl, his annoyance plain even in the minimal light. "But I suppose someone so pathetic as to fight from afar wouldn't know of true honor."

Annoyance turned into rage, the scowl becoming a mask of fury as the golden Servant turned toward the other man.

"You dare to speak so to your betters, swine? I will have to teach you a lesson."

"Enough!" the robed man shouted, his voice filling the chamber. All eyes turned to him again. "I'll not have you tearing each other apart in my sanctum!"

"And why should I listen to you?" the golden man asked. "My time on this ugly world is finished. I have no interest in lingering."

"A good question!" the obvious magus responded, walking close enough for the others to get a good look at him. He was old, though not incredibly so. His hair was silver and a few wrinkles marred his angular face, but he moved with strength and purpose. The only real signs of his age were his eyes, dull amber orbs that spoke of decades beyond how the rest of him appeared. "I suppose I could say because I hold all of your command seals."

He raised his sleeve, revealing an arm pitted with blood red markings. It was absolutely covered in command seals, each blending into the other like a piece of art rather than a magical tool.

"But I know some of you don't care about that overmuch. I could threaten to cut off your prana supply, but you've said that you have no desire to stay."

He paced, his hands held behind him as he mockingly mused over the armored Servant's question. Said Servant barred his teeth, almost growling his anger at being so completely ignored.

"What, then, am I to do? It's quite the dilemma."

"Please cease this ridicule," called another Servant in the shadows. He held a spear like the bronze armored Servant, though his was longer and glinted strangely crimson in the light. "It is unseemly."

"Fine then."

The man snapped his fingers, and every Servant in the room gasped in pain, many of them collapsing at the force of it. Daggers of fire punctured their flesh; spikes of ice tore through their insides. To breathe was like inhaling glass, cutting them and breaking them utterly. Even the golden armored Servant fell to his knees, torture wracking every fiber of his being. He could barely think underneath it all, could barely keep himself from screaming. Through the torture that had replaced his reality he realized others in the room hadn't been able to restrain their voices from breaking free, and he felt a little pride before a fresh wave of pain flushed out conscious thought. Every second was agony unlike anything they had ever encountered, and they had experienced much in their time.

"You will listen because I can break your bodies in two like drying reeds!" the magus roared. "Work with me and I will grant you all your hopes and dreams! Resist and your lives will be nothing but pain! Those are your only options!"

The pain ceased, leaving the Servants gasping for air. The golden man glared, but remained silent. Others, however, perked up at the magus' words.

"What do you mean?" a tall, hooded woman asked. "All of us achieve our dreams? You summoned us for Heaven's Feel, but only one of us can take the Grail."

"The rules have changed. What was true once is no longer the case." He spread his arms, hands closing into fists. "I have done the impossible. I have improved the Grail and the system it works upon, my own version set atop the ruins of the old!"

"That's not possible," she responded. But her heart wasn't in it. Her eyes gleamed with hope under her hood. Could it be true? Could she dare dream she could get him back? "Such an undertaking… Where would you find the resources for such a thing?"

"I care not for what can and cannot be done," the magus continued. "And neither should you. Your existence here is all the proof that is needed, as is the existence of the Servants you shall battle."

"And who shall we fight?" the spearman in bronze armor called, his expression alighting at the prospect of combat.

"The Masters of previous wars yet live, and their Servants live now as well. Seek them out! Destroy them! And as you do, you will pave the way toward the Grail! Go, now, and grasp our victory!"

o\O/o

It took a little time to get everyone situated so they could speak properly. Berserker was much too large to actually fit in the Emiya dining room, so he simply sat outside, glaring at everything. Archer hung by the wall, leaning next to it with his eyes closed. Everyone else, however, sat at the table.

"So how is this possible?" Shirou asked. "I mean, with the Grail dismantled Servants shouldn't be able to form."

"Well," Rin began slowly. "That's not entirely correct, but it's close enough for our circumstances. The command seals certainly shouldn't be here."

"Then something has gone wrong," Sakura said, her expression worried. "You don't think? Could I…"

"No," Rin cut in sharply, though not unkindly. Her expression softened, and she smiled at her sister, trying to comfort her. "It doesn't have anything to do with you, Sakura. We handled that. It's done. He can't hurt you any more."

"Sakura?" Rider broke in, her puzzled expression evident even with her eyes obscured. Her voice, however, held nothing but concern. "Why would you think this has anything to do with you?"

"I'll tell you later," she said softly, closing her eyes as if to hide from something terrible. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

Shirou winced, his heart breaking a little from the pained expression on Sakura's face. He knew what she so desperately didn't want to say, he and Rin both did. He wouldn't force her to relive the memories of what she'd suffered under Zouken Makiri's hands. But both Saber and Rider looked curious about the girl's reluctance, and Archer had opened his eyes and was glancing at her. He desperately looked for something, anything to change the subject.

"Hey, Ilya," he began, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. "What's with Berserker's sword? It looks like it's been snapped in half. Why's he holding a broken Noble Phantasm?"

The small woman opened her mouth to answer, but it wasn't she who responded.

"This is not my Noble Phantasm," Berserker rumbled, his voice deep and hoarse, tight like he was holding back anger. "This is merely a slab of stone from my temple in Greece, imbued with prana from my body. My Noble Phantasm has always been my skin, as well the skills I developed slaying the monstrous beasts that plagued the world."

Shirou's jaw dropped. "You… you can talk?"

"Of course he can, Onii-chan," Ilya chimed, leaning against him a little. "Mad Enhancement takes a lot of Prana. I can't maintain it all the time any more, thanks to what you and the others did for me. Remember?"

"Oh, right. But, why does he still sound so angry?"

"I was locked in unthinking rage for months, boy," Berserker growled. "One does not simply walk away from that. Such a thing leaves a mark on a man, and is easy to fall back in to."

Ilya looked a little sad, hearing that, though she changed her expression quickly. Still, he'd known her long enough to realize she was hiding the guilt she felt over past actions. Shirou wasn't sure if he'd managed to accomplish anything from moving painful memories from Sakura to Ilya. Thankfully, Rin came to his rescue.

"I think I might have the answer to your first question, Shirou." She turned to Berserker. "What is the last thing you remember before appearing here?"

"The boy and the girl there," the giant shrugged in Saber's direction. "Breaking my weapon and killing me."

"That's my last memory as well," Rider said, looking at Saber and frowning. "A flash of light from Saber's sword, and then nothing. After that, I'm here."

"Mine's similar to Berserker's," Archer chimed in. "Only it involved him breaking near enough every bone in my body."

Berserker smirked. "And you killed me several times. A fair exchange."

"Says the man with twelve lives."

"Boys, stop it," Rin interjected firmly. "Anyway, this tells us a few things. I think what happened is that whatever this new Grail is, it captured the resonance of the Servants near the moment of their deaths. Which tells us this new Grail might be built upon the framework of the old one."

Ilya nodded. "That would make sense. So they're copies then?"

"Copy isn't really the right word. They're really themselves, but instead of a new version being produced by the Grail, it's the old version with all their memories intact. It would also explain Berserker's broken sword. It was damaged before his death, so it came back as it was before he met his end."

"How is that possible?"

Rin shrugged. "This is just a hypothesis. All I can do is guess. Really, I have nothing solid, so I'm just running on what makes the most sense with what I know."

Throughout the exchange, Saber's face grew more and more troubled. She frowned, looking from Rin to everyone else as they bandied about their last memories. Shirou couldn't help but notice she looked confused. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"Saber? Is everything okay?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. My experience is different than the others."

Rin perked up. "Oh? What's the last thing you remember?"

"Falling asleep on a green field under a massive tree within the depths of Avalon."

There was silence as everyone stared at her. Rin simply opened her mouth a bit before closing it, utterly at a loss for words. Ilya's eyes narrowed, and Sakura and Shirou simply looked confused.

"Why are you always the special one?" Archer asked, breaking the silence. His tone made Rin roll her eyes.

"Oh sure, mister 'I forgot my past so I can't tell you who I am.'"

"I still don't remember that, by the way."

"Sure you don't," Rin shot back, suspicion seeping into every word. But before she could continue her interrogation, the phone rang.

Shirou stood up and walked over, ignoring the looks Rin was giving Archer. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear. "Yes?"

"_Good, you're home,"_ a deep voice said from the other end. It was a voice Shirou recognized. A voice he'd last heard four years ago.

"Mr. Velvet?"

"_Let's skip the pleasantries,"_ he cut in before Shirou could go on. _"Has your Servant returned to you?"_

Shirou blinked. "Yeah, she has. Wait, you said you were in the Fourth War. Has your Servant returned?"

There was some noise on the other end, a loud, boisterous laugh booming in a confined space. Shirou heard Waver say something unintelligible away from the phone before he spoke into the receiver again.

"_Yes. Look, I'm already on my way over. Just hand Tohsaka the phone and keep yourselves from doing anything until I get there. I need to exchange some information with her so we can have a plan of action when my plane lands."_

"How did you know she was here?"

"_You lot are nothing if not predictable. Of course everyone would meet up at your house. Now give her the phone."_

Shirou moved the phone away from his ear and waved Rin over. She stood up and took it from him, talking quietly into the receiver as he sat down next to Saber again. She looked at him and smiled, and Shirou couldn't help but smile back.

"However this happened," he whispered. "It's good to see you again, Saber."

She nodded. "I feel the same way." Her expression soured a little. "But I can't help but feel we're being used in some game we don't know the rules to."

"Which makes this par for the course for Heaven's Feel," Archer cut in before Shirou could respond. "Just sit back and relax. The noise will kick up soon enough. Speaking of which."

The pale haired Servant moved from the wall and motioned to Shirou.

"Come with me a bit. I want to talk to you."

Shirou blinked, obviously confused. Still, he stood up and followed Archer, Saber by his side. Archer's eyes narrowed at her presence, but she simply scowled back at him. He shrugged in return, not making an issue of it as they walked. For which Shirou was thankful, because he couldn't imagine his home surviving if the two Servants decided to go at each other.

They went into the hallway, away from everyone else, before stopping near the front door. Archer looked Shirou up and down, appraising.

"Well, you've certainly gotten bigger. Anyway, did you take my advice to heart?"

It took Shirou a moment to figure out what Archer was talking about, his mind racing back six years ago to the Grail War before he remembered.

"Oh! You mean about Tracing. Yes. I never did get a chance to thank you for that. It helped a great deal."

"Just helping you figure out what you would have eventually," the taller man responded, shrugging off Shirou's gratitude. "So, what have you done with yourself?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just call me curious. You're older than the last time I've seen you. I was wondering if you'd grown up a bit. Unlikely, but hope springs eternal."

Shirou bristled visibly, which made Archer smirk and Saber shift her stance like she was going to hit the taller Servant with something sharp and pointed. But he forced himself to calm down, not rising to the bait. The man was just as aggravating as he remembered, rubbing him just the wrong way.

"I've done a lot of traveling," he responded, keeping his voice even. Archer nodded, a strange expression crossing his face as Shirou spoke. It looked a little like… sadness? The young man set that thought aside as he continued. "It's mostly been when I've done trips abroad volunteering between going to medical school in Kobe."

Archer's head jerked. "Wait, what? Medical school?"

Shirou nodded. "I was inspired by you, actually. By what you did for us back at the Einzbern mansion." He paused a bit, but Archer motioned for him to continue. "You sacrificed yourself, saving us from certain death. And that struck a chord in me. But despite that, a thought that always came to me as the war continued was 'We could really use his help.' And I realized that while sacrificing yourself in a blaze of glory might be heroic, it keeps you from helping more people. The ones left behind have to fend for themselves."

Shirou sighed and closed his eyes, opening them a little as Saber put a hand on his shoulder. Neither of them noticed Archer's darkening expression as Shirou continued, the pale haired Servant schooling his face before he was noticed.

"I've seen… things… around the world, death and destruction and suffering. I've even," he stopped for a moment, swallowing. Bad memories were surfacing again. That last trip overseas, the knife leaving his hand… "I've even had to kill people. I know it's impossible to save everyone, but does that really mean I shouldn't try? Just because you know something can't be done doesn't mean the attempt shouldn't be made. I want to help people. That's what I've realized. It's my desire, what makes me feel complete. So I'll work my hardest to stay alive and do the best I can."

Saber's hand on his shoulder tightened, an affectionate squeeze, and Shirou put his hand over hers. It was silent for a few seconds, the only sound coming from the other room as they stood there. Then, without warning, Archer walked away, his expression troubled.

"What was all that about, do you think?" Shirou asked. Saber just shook here head in response.

"I don't know. He was always a hard man to read, and that has not changed. At first I thought he wished to harm you, but now I am unsure."

"Harm me?"

She nodded. "Yes. His posture has always become hostile whenever you two are together, though he hid it well. But it's shifted now. I don't know what his intentions are."

The young man didn't know what to say to that. He'd known Archer didn't like him, that was obvious, but he hadn't expected any outright aggression aside from what sprung forth from their tense alliance during the War. But the way Saber put it felt like the man had something against Shirou personally. But what could it be? It's not like he'd ever seen the man before the Grail War.

_Just another mystery piled on top of all the others,_ he thought to himself as they walked back into the dining room. _Just like Archer said, par for the course with Heaven's Feel._

Hours passed in relative quiet, Servants and Masters getting reacquainted with each other. Which really meant that Rin kept pestering Archer while the taller man ignored her, deep in his own thoughts. Ilya, meanwhile, alternated between sitting next to Shirou and sitting in Berserker's lap, the huge Servant accepting this as stoically as he took everything else. Sakura whispered with Rider, the taller woman's expression growing darker and darker as she explained in mumbled words what she experienced, only to be cut off when the Servant hugged her close, cutting her story short.

Shirou, for his part, just tried to get a little more rest. He'd run several miles to get to his house from the bridge, and now that his adrenaline had passed he was feeling little aches and pains everywhere. Nothing he hadn't felt before, but he'd still pushed himself a little too much during his non-stop run.

"Oh dear," he whispered, memory coming back.

"What is it?" Saber asked, putting down a cup of tea that had been set out before.

"I just remembered I left my bag at the bridge when I felt the command seals come back… It had most of my clothes."

"Is it too late to retrieve them?"

"It's been over a few hours now…" Shirou mumbled with a resigned smile, closing his eyes as he mentally beat himself up over his mistake. "They've probably been stolen already."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to go shopping together," Saber said with a small grin. "After all, we can't have you wearing the same outfit every day."

The thought of shopping with Saber perked him up a little bit. Would there be enough time for such a thing? He hoped so, remembering the date they went on so long ago.

The sun was setting fast in the distance, the brightness of the day fading to a dull orange glow. Soon after it faded entirely, the sounds of a car pulled in to the street next to the house, and after the thuds of closing doors pulled away. A firm knock on the door signified visitors, and Shirou rose to greet them.

"Hello," Waver said as he lit a cigar. But Shirou barely noticed him. Behind the tall magus was easily the second largest man he had ever seen, and that was only because he knew Berserker. His hair was a fiery red, as was his beard. He grinned at Shirou's open-mouthed stare, and laughed resoundingly.

"Is that you, King of Conquerors?" Saber shouted from the dining room. "I'd recognize that cackle anywhere!"

"Oh? King of Knights!" the man said as he made his way inside, nodding respectfully to Shirou as he did so. "It's good to hear your voice again. You're just as feisty as always!"

Shirou turned to Waver, who simply shrugged.

"Alexander's like that. Just go along with it. It's what I do."

He followed after his Servant, who was getting himself situated amongst everyone else. He easily dominated the room, introducing himself loudly and smiling all the while, at least until Waver managed to get him to sit down and stay quiet long enough for him to talk. He gave Alexander a long-suffering look, though it didn't have any real heat behind it. Alexander, in response, simply grinned and motioned for his partner to begin.

"I want to make something completely clear right now," Waver announced, addressing the assembled party before taking a deep drag from his cigar. He settled in quickly despite having arrived only a few minutes ago, and if he was at all tired from his lengthy trip he didn't show it. "This is not a Holy Grail War. This is a jury-rigged piece of junk held together by dreams and miracles. This shouldn't have happened."

The expressions on everyone's faces varied from that statement. Rin nodded in agreement, having spoken with Waver about much of this already. Shirou kept his expression neutral to hide his lack of understanding, as did Saber and Archer. Ilya was frowning, Berserker was tense and Sakura and Rider made no effort to hide they didn't understand what Waver was getting at.

Alexander, meanwhile, simply let out a loud sigh.

"You said that all the way over here, Kid," he responded, his voice booming. Shirou flinched a little at the sound of it, though he was curious as to why Saber simply sighed and shook her head at the big man's antics. He was sitting with the rest of the group, near Saber and Rider, who he glanced at occasionally. "Really, what's so strange about this? We're here, the Grail's here and I have another chance at conquering the world again! I'm not seeing any downside to the whole affair."

"What I'm saying," Waver said evenly, crossing his arms a little as he did so. He was much different from the gangly youth he had been so long ago, and he cut an imposing figure in his long coat and stern expression. Alexander gave a toothy smile at the sight of Waver going on with such confidence, something the other man noticed and couldn't help smirking a little in response. "Is that for all I know you could disappear at a moments notice. We have no idea how this new system works. Everything about this is strange. You all still have your memories of previous wars. Hell, combatants from two different wars are in the same room! And two of them are of the same class! Who knows what else could show up?"

"So what is the plan?" Saber interjected, cutting Waver off before he could go into a full-blown rant. The man chewed on his cigar a little, obviously irritated.

"I've been given authority by the Mages Association to deal with this situation however I deem fit. As of right now you all are drafted."

"That doesn't really answer anything," Ilya responded, pouting a little because of the older man's grumpiness. "What do we do next?"

"Simple. We don't have much solid information, so we're going to get some. Four different spiritual sites in the city powered the old Grail, and it would appear at one of them when the war is finished. We're going to examine those sites and see what makes this thing tick."

"Will we need to examine all of them?" Shirou asked, finally bringing his voice to the discussion. He was honestly out of his depth here, the kind of advanced magical theory involved being much beyond his abilities. Thankfully, beyond Rin's smile and Ilya's giggle, no one brought attention to the fact.

"No. I already looked at the one near the Fuyuki Church when I met with the representative there. The Church has agreed to help us keep this new war a secret, by the way. They want this handled as quickly as we do. If we can look at two other sites we should have enough to confirm my suspicions."

"And those are?"

Waver shook his head. "My own, for now. This house will be our base of operations, so we need at least one Servant and Master here at all times to ensure its safety." He motioned to Ilya and Berserker. "You two are the best choice. I don't think there's much of anything that could handle Berserker in a straight fight."

"Of course not," Alexander said with a grin, and perhaps a little wonder. "He's Heracles!"

The giant Servant blinked, his scowl fading a little as he looked over the other man. "You know my name?"

"Of course! I think we might actually be siblings, if what my mother told me is true."

Heracles snorted. "It wouldn't surprise me."

"I don't want to be left behind!" Ilya broke in, her eyes narrowing in anger. Rin frowned and Waver's expression became ever more exasperated. But before they could react Shirou stood up and walked over to her, leaning down to grip her shoulders.

"Ilya, Waver's right. We'll need someone to make sure we have some place to come back to. It's not like we'll be out for very long, okay?"

Her expression softened, shifting from annoyance to worry. She fidgeted a little. "But what if something happens to you?"

"We'll be fine," he said, giving her a smile. "I promise."

"You have my word Shirou will not come to any harm," came Saber's firm, resolute voice. Ilya turned to her, and in those green eyes she saw nothing but dedication. It was obvious Saber meant every word. Finally, Ilya nodded.

"Well, if that's all finished," Waver said as he put out the stub of his cigar in an ashtray. "Let's get moving. Shirou, you're with me. Tohsaka, take your sister to the old temple up on the mountain. My group will go examine the remains of the Einzbern mansion."

No one else had anything else to bring to the plan, so all those involved in the scouting mission began to make their leave. Waver picked up a small bag and hung it around his shoulder, the thing clanking a little as it did so, and made his way to the entrance along with Shirou and Alexander. Saber was close behind, but stopped when Sakura tugged on her sleeve.

"Sakura?"

"I wanted to thank you," the quiet girl said softly, still gripping Saber's shirt. "For coming back, I mean."

Saber blinked, more than a little confused. "You are welcome, but it wasn't through my own will that I returned."

"I know, but…" she paused, looking for the right words. "Shirou was sad when you left. He hid it, but I noticed. It was just the little things, like sighing every now and then, and visiting the bridge for hours at a time. I tried… Tried to fill in the gap you left, but nothing I did ever really helped."

"Sakura… what are you…"

"So thank you," she interrupted. "Thank you for coming back. I'm happy he's happy."

She let go, walking past Saber to join her sister, who was already at the front gates. And as she walked, Saber thought she heard words, so faint that even with her super human senses she was unsure if they were real. Words that made something in her chest clench a little, spoken with a mixture of longing and sadness even as a current of bittersweet happiness traced through it all.

"Even if he can never be mine."

o\O/o

The forest was thick, trees clumping together in tight packets as the half moon shown overhead. It bathed the whole region in a pale, silver light that barely made enough illumination to see. Truthfully, it gave the whole area a haunting atmosphere, and the heat wasn't helping. Even at night Japan's summer made its presence known, making the walk through the forest an affair of buzzing insects and muggy humidity that did nothing to alleviate the unearthly pressure that seemed to permeate the very every square inch of this rugged, inhospitable place.

Thankfully, there remained a few paths within the wooded region, though they weren't maintained very well. They were really just trails of packed dirt that threaded throughout the forest, set around in lazy patterns like snakes at rest. Hardly anyone really came here any more, or at least never came this deeply inside. Most campsites were miles back the way they had come, closer to the city and the amenities it provided.

The dark, of course, wasn't much of an issue. With just a little magic Shirou was able to reinforce his eyes, allowing him to see perfectly, even if colors were a little muted. Saber and Alexander, naturally, didn't have any issues finding their way in the gloom, and they had changed their outfits to their battle garb once they were safely away from civilian eyes. Waver's own steps were sure footed as he took point next to his bulky Servant, the two of them speaking a little to each other. Waver tried to keep his voice down, though Alexander made only a marginal attempt at the same. It looked like they were catching up more on what Waver had been up to since Alexander's defeat in the Fourth Heaven's Feel.

Saber, on the other hand, had been silent the whole walk to and through the forest. Her expression was troubled, like she was in deep thought. She'd been that way ever since they left the Emiya household, and it made Shirou concerned. He didn't want to pressure her, but between her melancholy and the creepy atmosphere he felt like he was just a few seconds away from tearing out his hair! He had to do something!

"Saber," he said softly, snapping the blonde woman out of her funk. She shook her head a little before looking at him, her eyes questioning. "Could you tell me what you meant earlier? About falling asleep in Avalon?"

"There really isn't much to say," Saber responded, happy to be talking instead of thinking upon what troubled her so. "When I died I traveled to Avalon, the realm of the fairies. Inside I felt a great weariness come over me, so I rested beneath the branches of a great tree and fell asleep. The next thing I know, I'm within your home."

"But Rin told me Servants returned to the Throne of Heroes when they disappeared."

"Ah, I see." Saber fidgeted a little, unsure of what to say. "Well… you saw my memories, so you know I'm not exactly a normal Servant."

Shirou nodded, motioning for Saber to continue. After mulling it over a little, she did so. These were memories she was not fond of, but Shirou had already seen most of them. What did it hurt for him to know the whole truth?

"While I lay dying after the battle of Camlann, I appealed to the world itself. 'Please give me a chance to relive my life, to set another on the throne.' And the world responded, for I lost consciousness and awoke as a Heroic Spirit partnered with your father. The same happened again when I appeared for you."

"You appealed to the world?"

"Yes, with the condition I would serve its interests after death should I achieve my goals. But since I no longer desire the Grail the contract was broken and my spirit passed on to Avalon. At least until now, it appears."

Shirou nodded, only really understanding a little of what she said. He'd have to ask her to explain it better later. Right now they needed to focus a little more on their goals. If only it wasn't so hot!

He wiped a sleeve across his forehead, taking away some of the sweat. Saber noticed this. The heat wasn't bothering her much, and she knew Shirou wouldn't outright complain about the weather. However, despite his past feats of skill and bravery he was still only human. She knew he had to be uncomfortable.

Something clicked in her mind, and mentally she berated herself for not thinking of it before.

"So, you're married now?" Alexander asked his partner, leaning down to nudge him a little. He grinned slyly, rubbing one hand over his thick red beard. "What's she like?"

"Keaira is… She's…" Waver stumbled over his words a little, the expression on his face oddly timid, far away from his usual stern visage. It made Alexander's grin even wider.

"Eh?"

"She's fierce," Waver said finally, finding the right words to describe his spouse.

Alexander let out a booming laugh, slapping the shorter man on the back. Waver took it evenly, managing not to stumble like he would have back when he was younger. He found himself grinning back a little.

"Fierce! That fits you so well!"

"Oi, King of Conquerors," Saber called. The tall man stood up straight and turned his head back, still walking along. He kept his expression neutral; though it was obvious he was a little annoyed he couldn't keep catching up with his old friend.

"Eh? What is it, King of Knights?"

"Couldn't you have carried us in your chariot? It would be much faster than simply walking."

The taller Servant sighed. "You broke it, remember? I can't use something that's been smashed to pieces."

"Oh… That's right." Saber paused a moment, grasping her chin in her hand as she mulled this over. "This will take a little getting used to."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Waver cut in. "We're almost there."

It was true. The forest began to thin out around them, making way toward a clearing. Said clearing soon made way to a large lawn, behind which rested an enormous mansion. Both had seen better days. The lawn was overgrown with weeds and bushes, and the mansion itself looked like someone had knocked down the front of it with a wrecking ball. After the last, and unfortunately not final, Heaven's Feel the Einzberns had washed their hands of everything within Japan and all the business they'd had there.

Which, unfortunately, had also involved Ilya. Shirou's teeth gritted a little in anger at how they'd cast her aside so easily, uncaring of her fate and leaving her to fend for herself. He'd already promised there would be a reckoning for that, and for the other offenses he'd learned the Einzberns had committed against those he cared about.

Waver made his way to the middle of the lawn and knelt down, closing his eyes and reaching out with his senses. Shirou felt a little pulse of magic go into the ground, and blinked in surprise when he felt a little pulse echo back, Waver's examination acting like radar and bouncing back toward him after meeting resistance.

"Dammit," he cursed, stepping away and wiping his hand on his pants to get the dirt off. "Just as I thought."

"What's wrong?"

"Everything." He grimaced, looking more like he was getting his teeth pulled than relaying information. "When I dismantled the Grail I couldn't actually remove the basic groundwork, the bedrock of the ritual. It was far too complex for me, and I was afraid even attempting it would possibly release a pulse of energy that could send the whole region into an earthquake. So I took apart everything I could. I mean, no one could possibly have understood Heaven's Feel enough to try rebuilding it. Except for three, and two of those are impossible."

"So who's the culprit?"

Before Waver could speak, his eyes widened, looking at something coming at them from above.

"Incoming!" he shouted, and the Servants reacted immediately. Alexander grabbed Waver while Saber snatched Shirou, pulling the two magi away from the oncoming projectile. It screeched through the air like a bomb, glowing a dull red as it smashed into the ground in a horrendous crash. Dirt kicked up everywhere as the ground exploded, prana spilling out in great waves from point of impact.

It took a few seconds for the force of the explosion to die down, revealing an impressive crater several feet wide and more than a few feet deep. And there, rested at the center, was a spear of medium length, its long blade glowing faintly in he pale moonlight.

A deep, ear-wrenching war cry came from the forest where the spear had come from, and a heavily muscled mountain of a man rushed toward them at speeds no normal human could hope to match. On his left arm he carried a large round shield, bronze like the armor that covered his form. Neither seemed to hinder his movements any. His expression, from what could be seen from under his heavy helmet, was one of fierce and manic glee.

Alexander roared his response, drawing his sword as the obvious Servant rushed close, wrenching his spear from the ground as he did so. Sword locked with spear, and the two giant Servants were a blur of motion as they tore in to each other. Spear and sword flashing almost faster than the eye could follow as the two men came to grips, trying to cut the other apart while avoiding a deadly hail of blades.

Saber, meanwhile, only had eyes for the other man who followed behind the bronze armored giant. He was smaller, more lithe, but he moved with a dangerous grace. He was a handsome man, with long dark hair resting around his face and shoulders, a small beauty mark under his left eye. He was garbed in a skin tight, dark green outfit that looked like a strange form of leather armor. In his hands he held a long, blood red spear, upraised and pointed straight at Saber as he calmly strode forward.

_He's out for blood,_ Shirou thought as he summoned Kanshou and Bakuya, the twin swords coming easily to his hands. It was true; the man's handsome face was marred by a feral scowl that was just as frightening as his partner's bloodthirsty grin, if not more so.

"Lancer," Saber whispered, her invisible sword coming to her hand in an instant. The man, Lancer, stopped just a few feet away, resting easily.

"Hello, Saber."

He was on her in an instant, crossing the space between them in the blink of an eye. Saber brought her sword up just in time to knock the deadly spear away, and Shirou thought he could see the outline of Excalibur when the weapons struck each other. The two of them traded a number of lightning quick blows, ducking and dodging as the other counterattacked, before finally breaking away.

"Lancer… Diarmuid, please!" Saber called, getting ready for the next attack. "You don't need to do this!"

"Silence!" the man shot back, his voice ugly and harsh. "Don't you dare speak to me any further! Not after what you and your Master did to me! Just die! Die so I can fix my fate!"

"Diarmuid…"

"I refuse to simply take the injustices the world has handed me! My life cast aside, my honor thrown in the trash! No more! I won't have it! So just die, Saber! Die and let me finally control my own destiny!"

The man was enraged, beyond all reason. He charged again, and Shirou felt his own feet moving as the man attacked his Servant once more. Saber's sword was held ready, though her face was torn by a lingering sadness as she prepared to battle a man she obviously respected. But as Shirou prepared to help Saber, a niggling thought wormed its way into his mind.

_If we're being attacked here, what's happening with Rin and Sakura?_

o\O/o

"What's with this guy?" Archer mumbled as he tried, once again, to gain the advantage over the darkly armored Servant who was hell bent on smashing his face in with the polearm he wielded. He was coming dangerously close to doing so, with only his deeply ingrained instincts born from countless battles allowing him to dodge the evil looking weapon. It was dark, like the man's armor, and covered in red lines that looked more like magma than anything else.

What was worse, he was a better fighter. Archer could tell that easily. Three minutes into the fight and it was everything he could do to stay alive. He ducked and weaved, using Kanshou and Bakuya to protect his vitals as he tried to get in close. But despite the heavy plate mail the other Servant wore he moved just as swiftly as the pale haired man himself, if not faster, a master of combat to a degree Archer had rarely seen in anyone.

The black clad Servant let out a blood curdling scream, a deep roar of rage and violence, and struck again. Archer cursed, having moved too far in to dodge, and brought his twin weapons up to block. The force of the blow took him off his feet and into the air, knocking him into one of the trees with a sickening thud.

"Archer!" Rin called from the side, looking for a chance to throw one of her jewels at the rampaging Servant. But he was simply too fast, jumping around too much for her to get a shot. And from how this man moved, she knew she'd only get one before he closed in and ended her life.

"Stay back!" Archer responded, knowing even better than Rin the danger of this opponent. He raised his swords again, just in time to deflect a shot that should have caved in his skull. Instead it rammed into the tree he'd been thrown into, embedding itself in the wood and near enough cracking the poor plant in half.

Archer would have capitalized on his advantage, but he had to move out of the way of one black-clawed gauntlet, mere inches from tearing off his face. He cursed at his lost opportunity, smiling a rueful smile.

"I just don't have any luck at all with Berserkers."

Up in the air another battle was ongoing, this one more even than Archer's fight. Rider clashed with a dark cloaked woman was bursts of magical power erupted throughout the sky. Long chains tipped with spikes lashed out, crossing impossible distances to lash at the sorceress with unerring accuracy, only to be deflected by shields of pure magical force. The woman responded in kind with bolts of power, but she was nowhere near fast enough to keep up with the winged steed Rider rode into battle.

"Just like old times, eh, Caster?" Rider mocked, darting between strikes powerful enough to break buildings in two with the greatest of ease. "You shoot and shoot, but you never hit."

"Shut up, you trollop!" Caster screeched, increasing the tempo of her attacks. "Shut up and die! Die so I can have him with me again!"

Rider frowned, wondering just what the other woman was getting at. She was much different from what she remembered. Back during their first meeting she had been cool and composed, but now she attacked with a kind of manic desperation. And she struck with much greater speed and force, as if she had been held back from her full power during their little scuffle in the past.

She strafed by, fast enough to break sound, and she smiled as Caster flinched from the sonic boom left in her wake. She struck once more, her chain managing to slip past Caster's defense and slice into her side. The magical Servant screamed in rage and pain, increasing her assault, forcing Rider to break off her own attack.

Below, Sakura watched from both her own eyes and those of the millions of insects that inhabited the mountain, looking for something, anything, she could do to aid her Servant in her fight. They moved so fast, unbelievably so. It was everything she could do, viewing from multiple angles, to keep up with it. But she had to try, to try and find some way to help Rider!

And so the battle raged, on the ground and in the sky, as demigods clashed with enough fury to shatter earth and split the heavens. And those they were bound to watched on as their fury erupted around them, watched as giants raged against each other. And as they did, they looked for their chance. Because this battle, so similar yet so different than those they had experienced before, was only the beginning to a long and brutal war.

o\O/o

Shirou cursed as that red spear dispelled his sword yet again, moving back with as much speed as he could manage as the deadly weapon aimed for his heart. He Traced quickly, bringing another curved blade up to deflect the attack. This sword disappeared as well, breaking under the spear's strange power, but it was enough to deflect the strike aside.

It did leave his face open for Diarmuid's fist to break his nose, however, and it was only through reinforcement that his neck hadn't snapped. Shirou barely contained a cry as he flew back, blood streaming down his face. He hit the ground hard, but was quick the get back onto his feet, instincts kicking in even as adrenaline flooded his system to help block out the pain. He smiled as he readied another projection, something that made his foe pause.

Because Saber managed to capitalize on the opening he'd given her. She rushed the handsome Servant, knocking him back and leaving him open for her sword's strike to his side. He put Gae Dearg, the Crimson Rose of Exorcism, in the way just in time to change a strike that should have disemboweled him to one that merely dug deeply into his hip. He snarled in pain and jumped back, trying to gain some distance as Saber took advantage.

Alexander, meanwhile, was still trading blows with his own opponent. It was a back and forth, the King of Conquerors slashing and jabbing with his weapon, probing his enemy's defense as he looked for the best time to lay on with all his force. His face was a mask of concentration and focus, his sword a blur of steel and power.

Which was almost the opposite of the other man, who simply attacked and attacked and attacked. His spear shot out rapidly, coming from all angles as he tried to pierce his foe. His shield was always right behind it, ready to deflect Alexander's counterstrokes. He almost seemed to have no regard for his own safety, so sure in his defense.

Until… an opening! Alexander struck hard, his sword going from shoulder to hip across his foe. Sparks flew as his weapon scraped along the thick bronze armor, but to his surprise left not even the smallest mark! He jumped back quickly, avoiding the tip of the spear as it raced toward his eyes.

"What's wrong?" his enemy crowed. "You were doing so well! Come on, let me have a little more fun!"

Alexander didn't rise to the taunt, merely pointing his sword at his enemy and grinning. "You're a Lancer right? But of course, that isn't your real name."

The bronze armored Servant paused in mid stride, curious as to what Alexander was getting at. Taking that as his cue, the fiery haired Servant continued.

"That fierce combat, that unparalleled skill! And not to mention my sword merely slid across your armor and skin. You can only be one man! I name you Achilles, the champion of Myrmidon!"

The Servant didn't seem disturbed by Alexander guessing his identity. If anything, his grin grew even wider. He rested his spear on his shoulder, totally at ease despite the brutal combat he'd been engaged in only seconds before.

"You've got good eyes. I'm happy to know that even now my legend persists!" He thrust his spear out to Alexander, answering the man's challenge. "Yes, I am Achilles! Now if you're quite through talking, let's get on with it!"

"I'll have to step it up if I'm to fight one such as you," Alexander responded, stepping back with one foot as he raised his sword overhead. "Know that I am Alexander, the King of Conquerors! Let our battle be a glorious one!"

"Oh?" Achilles sneered. "You're a Rider, right? But where's your steed? You'd have summoned your chariot, countryman, if you still had it. So what are you going to ride?"

Alexander's grin dimmed a little at the taunt, and his expression grew serious. He slashed the air with his sword, cutting open the air. From it emerged a powerful black horse, huge and heavily muscled. It snorted and pawed at the ground, eager to run and fight as she had so often in her mortal life.

"The one who carries me forward shall always be my faithful Bucephalus! Come, let us continue!"

With one smooth motion Alexander mounted his horse, the black steed accepting her master easily. As one they charged, Bucephalus' speed much greater than Alexander's own. The force of their headlong rush took Achilles off his feet, Alexander's sword and the black horse's power much greater than any strike that had come before. A small rent appeared on Achilles' armor, a tiny thing that barely seemed noticeable on the mighty Servant's chest. But it was there all the same.

Alexander roared and charged again, his face breaking into a powerful smile. Achilles responded with his own, not caring about the damage to his armor. It was more fun if the fight was between equal opponents, and he'd not had a battle like this one in a long time!

While Alexander's fight appeared to be relatively even, Saber's own battle was going much differently. Diarmuid was sure he could match Saber if he pushed himself. He'd done so before, and she didn't appear to be attacking to her full ability. But with the young man giving her aid, what should have been an even fight was quickly becoming a losing battle. And with only a single spear the Lancer knew he wouldn't be able to keep up his current pace for long.

He ducked under Saber's slash, memories telling him how long her invisible sword was, and barely moved aside from the boy's sword as he followed up with her. It seemed Saber had a strange master this time around, fighting with her on the front lines instead of attacking from the shadows.

While such actions were admirable, the young man was quickly becoming a nuisance. The injury at his side burned, and they hadn't let up enough for him to burn some prana to heal himself. He needed to get some space.

Acting quickly, Diarmuid dug his spear into the ground, sending up a clod of dirt into Shirou's eyes. The young man cursed and fell back, raising his swords in defense, which was the only thing that saved his life as Gae Dearg broke through his projections, knocked to the side just enough to cut into his shoulder instead of his chest, forcing him back with a cry of pain.

"Shirou!"

Saber yelled out her anger, pressing forward and hammering into the spear user with even more force and speed. Whatever reservations she might have held about fighting the spear-wielding Servant disappeared, and she attacked with all the power and skill she possessed. Slashes and thrusts weaved together in dizzying combinations that held bone-crushing force, moving from one attack to the next seamlessly. Diarmuid had to move Gae Dearg faster and faster to keep up with the blonde Servant's strikes, her invisible sword like a cutting wind that promised a swift end should he falter even an instant.

Their weapons locked, drawing their faces close. Saber's expression was one of anger, Diarmuid's one loathing. His fine features were made ugly, his mouth drawn back in a snarl. But his eyes were different. Deep within those orbs Saber could see something dark and powerful. Despair. Despair so deep and potent she wondered how the man wasn't howling because of it. His eyes were those of a man so desperate he would bleed himself dry if that was what it took to escape his fate.

"Why won't you die? Let me make everything right again!"

He pushed her away, unleashing rapid thrusts that forced Saber briefly on the defense. He pushed as hard as he could, using every skill he had to strike her. But her sword was always there, deflecting his blows and stopping his spear from ever reaching her flesh.

"Please, Saber!" he pleaded, desperation bleeding into his tone. "Please just fall! I have to use the Grail! I have to change what happened! I can't keep failing my duty!"

Saber pushed forward, knocking Diarmuid back and killing his advance. She wasted no time with her counter attack, her sword dipping low and coming up in a thrust that nearly took the Lancer in the throat. Only by stepping back and deflecting her invisible sword with Gae Dearg did he keep his head on his shoulders. But Saber wasn't finished, changing the thrust into a diagonal blow that almost chopped Diarmuid in half. The Lancer's frantic backward jump kept him in one piece, but the slash opened up a shallow wound from his shoulder to his already bleeding hip.

"I can't do that, Diarmuid," Saber whispered, striking at his wounded side. The Lancer managed to get his spear in place, but it got her close enough to check him with her shoulder, knocking the man even further off balance. "Not if your victory is bathed in his blood."

For a moment the spear user was confused, but realization dawned as he saw Shirou stumbling to his feet. The young man was clutching his wounded shoulder, for Gae Dearg had bitten deeply into his flesh. Saber noticed too, out of the corner of her eye, and her already fierce expression tightened further. She kept up her assault, not giving her opponent even a moments rest. He would jump and dodge, weaving to strike at her blind spots. But she was always just a step ahead of him, pushing him back with her superior strength. His hip wasn't helping matters. It bled more and more, burning painfully as he kept up his breakneck pace of blocking and dodging, trying in vain to launch an effective counter-attack.

_This isn't going well,_ he thought furiously as he tried to regain his initial advantage. But Saber didn't let up, moving ever forward and keeping him on the defense. She was grace and power, a force of nature made manifest as she wielded her weapon against him. She left no openings, was on him at every moment with a slash or a thrust, keeping him moving ever backward. And he knew, deep down past his determination and rage, that it was only his superior agility that kept her from plunging her sword through his heart.

Alexander bellowed and charged, his sword scraping off Achilles' shield as he made another pass. In response, Achilles struck out with his spear, the mighty weapon darting forth with speed far swifter than any bullet. But Achilles' strike was unbalanced, his footing knocked around thanks to Bucephalus' force. And the horse was faster still than Achilles' darting spear. The mighty steed moved easily away from the weapon's tip, carrying both herself and his master to safety.

It was then Achilles decided he'd had enough of simply standing and taking Alexander's abuse. With one powerful kick he forced himself into the air, jumping up past the tree lines before coming down. Alexander's eyes widened, and he kicked Bucephalus forward. The horse dashed with all the speed she could muster, barely getting away as Achilles' weapon hit the ground with even more power than his first attack. Power radiated from where he struck, kicking up dirt and even knocking over one of the near by trees as the ground rippled from where the Servant had landed.

The bronze armored Servant pulled his spear free and stepped out of the hole he'd made, ready to continue. He prepared to launch his spear at Alexander, his arm set to throw, when he was suddenly struck hard across the face. It hardly injured him, leaving but a slight stinging sensation, but it was noticeable all the same. He shook his head, clearing it and looking skyward.

There, resting on threads of power as he manipulated the magnetic fields around the iron in his belt and under the soles of his shoes, Waver Velvet floated above the battlefield. All around him swirled little balls and discs of iron, orbiting him lazily like moons around a planet. He scowled at Achilles, the wind making his long dark hair pick up like it had a life of its own, and pointed at the Servant. In an instant several of those iron weapons shot forth, careening toward him as fast as gunfire.

Which were easily dodged, of course, but it still took effort to move away from them. Effort he could ill afford fighting a man of Alexander's caliber. And there were quite a lot of them.

Diarmuid landed next to him, finally managing to get away from Saber. He batted aside an iron disc as it headed toward his face, panting a little as he kept his body moving.

"I think it's time to withdraw!" he said to his fellow Lancer, taking the time to knock aside yet another of Waver's projectiles as he did so. Achilles frowned, moving his head away from one iron ball only to get socked in the jaw with another. Those things really were aggravating, and his companion didn't seem able to simply push through them like he could.

Already he could see Diarmuid was littered with little cuts as those discs lashed at him. His spear shot out unerringly, and the smaller Servant was swifter even than himself. But with so many of the damned things moving around he knew they wouldn't be able to fight evenly with the two powerful Servants they were up against. It made for too many obstacles to truly enjoy the thrill of combat.

"Fine," Achilles muttered, irritated at letting such a promising fight go unfinished. "We'll finish this later, without the distractions."

The two faded away, quickly assuming spirit form as both Saber and Alexander converged on them. Their strikes hit nothing but air, however, the two spearmen seconds ahead of them. Alexander dismounted, panting a little at the exertion of his fight.

"Now THAT was something. A chance to battle Achilles himself! It's just like back in the good old days!"

"Don't get too used to it," Waver said as he descended. "We got lucky. Those two didn't know of Shirou's capabilities, or my own. It gave us an edge right now, but next time probably won't go so smoothly."

"If you can call this smooth," Shirou muttered, clutching his shoulder. Saber was by his side in an instant, helping him stand. He smiled at her, while she mumbled something about people not knowing when to stand back. Something that made Alexander look very amused, rubbing his beard in thought.

"So," Saber said when she was sure Shirou wasn't going to bleed to death. "You were about to tell us who you believed is responsible for this?"

"Yes," Waver said as he dusted off his coat, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. That much magnetic control always took a good deal out of him. "What I saw here was almost exactly the same as what I saw at Fuyuki Church. Someone has built upon the base framework of the Grail system, making a new one atop the remnants of the old. It's different, though. Less put together. Honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart, but it's maintaining itself somehow."

"Who could do this? Some rogue mage from the Association?"

Waver shook his head. "Some run of the mill magus wouldn't know the first thing about how to do this. There are only three families who have anywhere near enough knowledge to attempt such a thing. The first are the Tohsaka, and they wouldn't be doing this. Rin wouldn't allow it. Second are the Matou, and they've been broken ever since I crushed Zouken under my boot four years ago."

"So that just leaves…"

"Yeah," Waver said glumly. "We've got to pay a visit to the Einzbern."


	3. Beginning's End

Fate/Once More

Beginning's End

Archer was not having a good day. It might have been because he was, once again, a Servant in the pointless ritual that was Heaven's Feel. It could have been because he had to once more put up with his irritating younger incarnation, having to restrain himself from punching the young man in the face repeatedly and often. It might even have been because of his confusion over how events had turned out after the end of the previous war, brought about by Ilya being alive and his conversation with said annoying young man.

Mostly, though, it was because Berserker was beating the living daylights out of him.

He ducked under the heavy polearm as his opponent tried once again to spit him with it, getting out of the way by the skin of his teeth. That had happened far too often during this fight for Archer's comfort. He was riddled with little cuts and bruises, and his armor was even cracked a little from when the armored monster in front of him had connected with a backhanded blow from his gauntlet. That one would have easily cratered a normal man's chest, and as it was Archer was having a little trouble breathing.

The man's strength was monstrous, even for the inhuman power of a Servant. Even worse, despite obviously being completely out of his gourde he seemed to be able to fight with intelligence, offsetting the downsides of mad enhancement. This had the interesting, and very fatal, effect of making the man a near perfect killing machine. It was literally everything Archer could do to stay alive. If even glancing blows could injure him this much he didn't even want to imagine what a direct hit would do to him.

The trees helped in that regard. With such a long weapon Berserker had to either move around or force his way through the foliage to get at him. Not an especially hard task for the powerhouse Servant, to be sure, but it provided Archer with enough time to block and dodge, keeping out of reach of the full force his enemy could bring to bear. An advantage he had been abusing to its utmost, dancing around the man and keeping as many trees between them as he darted in and out, using hit and run tactics to try and whittle down his foe.

He'd been having less than stellar success on that front. Berserker blocked his overhand strike, but wasn't able to move quite fast enough to get away from the attack to his side. He twisted, moving with the blow to lessen the damage. Still, Archer could see the rent in his armor, even through the strange fog that surrounded him, as the mad Servant backed away. The shrouded Servant growled, circling him like a crazed dog. Archer moved with him, panting and trying to catch his breath. That was the first real good hit he'd manage to land on the man, but he wasn't sure he could manage another at his current pace. Already he could see Berserker's stance change, adapting for his attacks.

Rin was near by, he knew. He was always keeping her in the corner of his eye while he directed Berserker away from her. She was keeping her distance, avoiding getting in the middle of his confrontation. A good thing, because Archer was more than certain this monster could kill her just by accident if she got too close. If he knew Rin, then she was looking for some way to exploit an opening, but Berserker didn't really have any. The man always twitched a little when Rin moved, even though she was almost fifty meters away. And every time he did Archer wondered if he was going to break away and skewer his little Master before she had time to react. It hadn't happened yet, Archer was too good a target, but the way things were going that good fortune might not continue for much longer. He was beginning to run out of trees and Berserker was starting to get a feel for his tactics. He had to end this now!

Archer jumped back, gaining some room before throwing Kanshou and Bakuya at Berserker. The strangely shrouded Servant knocked them aside, but Archer had already Traced another set and tossed them. The four blades circled around the Servant of insanity, boxing him in. Smirking a little, Archer Traced a final set and pumped his prana into them, reinforcing them till they grew huge.

He charged, and Berserker roared. Spinning his weapon, the black Servant batted away the whirling blades that careened toward him, but that was all part of the plan. Archer moved in while his foe was distracted, getting close with the Overedged versions of his favorite weapons. Yelling out a battle cry, he slashed down with everything he had, both swords smashing all the way to the ground and exploding in a burst of prana that sent large chunks of dirt flying in all directions as his weapons broke under their own force. They tore great craters into the landscape, releasing a corona of light as they pushed back the air with gusts resembling the strength of a storm.

Which would have been much more impressive if he had actually hit his target.

"Oh, that is bullshit!"

Rin blinked at her Servant's outburst, but it became apparent why after the dust settled. There, several feet away and in the air, his blade embedded into the thick trunk of a tree, stood Berserker on his spear. The mad warrior had moved away just before Archer's strike, jumping up and riding on the shockwave produced by the pale haired Servant's attack. He had avoided it entirely!

Another roar ripped itself out of the madman's throat, and with one powerful push he kicked away from the tree, wrenching his weapon free as he shot down like a human bullet. Archer darted to the side just in time, getting away from Berserker's insane charge as the man crashed into the ground. Sadly, the armored Servant didn't seem any worse for wear, having shifted in midair to land feet first when he saw his adversary move. He picked himself up, hefted his spear and charged after the beleaguered Archer.

Okay, Archer thought as he tried to get some more distance between him and the juggernaut hell bent on turning him into a shish kabob. This isn't working. It's time for something new.

Up in the air Rider dodged a hail of magical bullets, each exploding like a little sun as they passed through the jet stream of her flying mount. Caster's face was set in a snarl of pain and hate, and power surrounded her as she tried again and again to strike at her much faster enemy.

Not that my speed is doing too much now, Rider mused wryly as she searched for an opening. After her first slip past Caster's defenses the woman had increased her guard, releasing enough prana that it covered her like a physical thing close to the skin. It wasn't as strong as the shields she had used before, for Rider hadn't felt as much resistance when she'd managed to hit her again, but it did cover more area. And it wasn't as if it needed to be especially thick if she kept Rider from getting a clean hit in.

To make matters worse, Caster was beginning to get used to Rider's current speed, her strikes landing ever closer to the darting Servant. She'd have to either increase it or start doing more aerial maneuvers to compensate. Both were simple matters, and she wasn't in any real danger of being struck as long as she kept her guard up. Still neither of those choices made any possibility of a counter-attack any easier. Really, Rider was considering simply charging full on and overpowering Caster with pure brute force.

But she'd attempted that before against Saber, so sure that her defense would hold as she destroyed the sword-wielding Servant. After all, wasn't she the fastest of all the Heroic Spirits, able to plow through any retaliation as she struck down her enemy? She knew this to be true, but at the same time she could not forget how it had been proven false. Could not forget the feeling of her mightiest attack being overwhelmed, her death in that blinding light…

She hesitated. She hated herself for it, but it was true. This uncertainty, this fear, kept her from committing herself to the headlong charge she could coax out of her steed with Bellerophon. Caster had released far more magical power than when last they'd fought. Who knew what else she could be hiding? That mystery made Rider stay her hand, more cautious as she probed what the magic user was capable of. After all, she'd been chucking explosions around casually for the last few minutes, displaying more blatant mystical might than she'd ever done during the last war. Who knew what else she could cook up?

Wait a second…

As Rider flew around, nimbly avoiding another wave of scorching power, she realized a subtle disturbance in the air. They were difficult to detect with all the energy being released, but without a doubt Rider knew this abnormality was real. There, just on the edge of her senses, she could feel them, subtle vibrations where nothing should exist! The revelation hit her like a ton of bricks. Not all of Caster's attacks had detonated! Her eyes widened at the revelation underneath her visor, and she frantically turning her mount downward, away from the nearly invisible wall of explosive orbs that had set themselves up in front of her. They shot after unerringly, following behind her like a trail of blazing comets as the Servant coaxed more speed out of her winged horse.

She twirled and dodged, more of the deadly orbs having set themselves up around her. They came from the sides, from above and below. Almost like an endless stream they rushed at her, and Rider could not help but marvel at the beauty of Caster's trap. Every fourth or fifth attack she had fired before had to have been for this purpose, slowly herding her into an inescapable box of exploding death. If she hadn't noticed it when she had… The thought wasn't worth considering.

Regardless, the trap had not been complete. Rider moved her mount gracefully between attacks, moving toward open spaces free from the destructive magic. Now that she knew of them there was no chance she would be caught, and it obvious Caster knew it as well. The robed Servant increased the tempo of her attacks, trying to keep her boxed in, but it was useless. Waves of energy shot from her fingers, and fire ignited in the sky as storms of ice swirled in tornados that reached for the darting Servant. But it was all for naught. Not even the fastest spells she could bring to bear could ever hope to match the speeds Pegasus was capable of, and Rider was a master in the winged horse's use.

Still, there was a good deal of those damned explosives flying about. And if she wasn't careful Caster could use them to force her into a bad position. Smiling at a sudden thought, she dipped downward toward the forest, almost touching the tops of the trees beneath her.

Caster cursed and bit her lip as her missiles homed in on the diving Servant. Desperately, she flung out her arms and tried to call them back, but the angle of descent was too steep, and the projectiles were moving much too fast. The result was inevitable.

Rider pulled up at the last second, her steed far more agile than the orbs trailing behind her. The whole lot of them slammed into the tree line, igniting in bursts of force that tore the ground apart and sent wood flying everywhere. The end result was a long line of craters that ripped through the foliage like a line of comets striking the earth, creating an ugly scar through the healthy green.

Rider smirked at her gambit paying off, and the sense of satisfaction only increased as she heard Caster cursing from her higher vantage point. She didn't have long to bask in it, however.

"Hey, Rider!" came the voice of her strange ally, the Servant of the Tohsaka girl. He was rushing in her direction, west from where she'd defeated Caster's strategy. He seemed to be having a little trouble with his opponent, who was chasing close behind him with enough killing intent to flare up like a beacon to her senses. She perked her head up, acknowledging him. With his eyes she knew he would see she was listening, and the man wasted no time getting his point across.

"Switch with me!" he called, running into the clearing she and Caster had created so recently.

He didn't wait for her response, simply taking point in the clearing and locking his eyes onto Caster. In one hand he summoned a bow, while in the other a strangely drill like sword. Said sword glowed brightly in the night as Archer pumped prana into it, increasing its destructive power immensely. It became fragile. It became dangerous.

It became broken.

Caster had but a moment to notice the sword turned arrow as Archer unleashed it, her eyes widening at the truly ludicrous amount of power being hurtled toward her. This power, this incredible brute strength! No shield could stand against this. It went beyond the idea of overwhelming force, the concept not pure enough for the nature of this arrow racing toward her. It completely destroyed the idea of defense. No, it mocked the very existence of protection itself. Even the greatest of barriers would fall under the onslaught of this overpowering thing.

So she didn't make a barrier. In that brief second when Archer unleashed his attack, Caster was already moving. She wrapped herself up in her cloak, fading away before that deadly arrow could strike true. It shot through where she had once been, a glowing bullet that careened into the sky without stopping and eventually leaving sight entirely.

Berserker, of course, was not idle as Archer unleashed this assault. He roared and jumped into the air, the point of his spear directed at Archer's exposed back. He was too fast, too close. At that distance the mad Servant could not possibly miss, and even if Archer managed to avoid a fatal stroke he would be wounded horribly by the strength of his crazed foe.

Rider was not having that, and made her point perfectly clear as Pegasus slammed into the black knight at supersonic speeds. Archer dove to the side as the aftermath hit, almost blowing out his ears as the air responded to something moving faster than sound. Berserker, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. His mid air charge was reversed, and he slammed into the ground hard, creating a deep trench in the earth as he skidded out of the clearing and back into the forest proper. His armor warped under the force, even if the ever-present shroud that surrounded him held firm. His momentum eventually halted several hundred meters away from the clearing, the trees he had sliced through falling on him in a tumble.

And yet despite all this damage he still tried to get up. With one shaking, clawed gauntlet he pushed aside the trees atop him, while the other moved to set him upright. But even as he did the shadows warped around him, and a multitude of insects crawled out of their secret places to strike. Shrouded in shadow, they bit and clawed at the Servant, seeking weak points in his armor and tearing at them. The shadow stuff infused in them made each bite far deadlier than it should have been, and Berserker screamed once more. But this time it was in pain, rather than anger.

Caster reappeared in the forest below, short of breath as she stumbled in the underbrush. She was more out of breath from her close encounter than from any expenditure of effort, in truth. Though the wound she had suffered burned still, the bleeding had long since stopped. And pain could be pushed aside, so her wound troubled her little now that she was outside of combat. But that arrow…

"What on earth was that?" she whispered.

It was all she got out of her mouth before she was struck multiple times in the back, explosions erupting all across her form as Rin's jewel magic smashed against her and sent her flying. She cried out as top class thaumaturgy washed over her form, the only thing keeping her from mortal wounds being the shield she had set around herself earlier. Even with her body shielded, the strength of the attack scorched her skin. Her clothing ripped under the power of the strike, and she was bloodied as she flew through the air and slammed into a tree.

She gasped in pain and righted herself, her eyes locking with Rin's. She remembered this one. She remembered this foolish little girl who considered herself a magus. This insolent, horrid wretch had dared to strike her once again! It was insulting! But worse, she was an obstacle. And obstacles had to be dealt with. She raised her hand, power gathering as she prepared to unleash it in a multitude of brutal and painful ways. Rin's own hands rose in response, gems placed between her fingers, but Caster wasn't concerned. The girl was not a threat, not this time. She'd flay her down to the bone and leave her to rot. She'd do it for him, to be with him again. Nothing could stand in her way as she strove toward her goal, to be able to hold that man once more…

Berserker's scream cut through the cloud of rage and sorrow that had overtaken her, snapping her out of her murderous thoughts. She shook her head and considered the situation carefully. Despite where she stood, things were going poorly for them. This assault had gone horribly wrong far too fast. The enemy had regained their footing and destroyed the initial advantage surprise had given them, and now they were being pushed back. Even now she knew Archer was rushing toward her, would be there in moments to stop her from killing this ignorant whelp.

Even worse, she could feel her other allies, the two Lancers, fleeing from their own battle. With them gone the ones they had confronted would no doubt join the aid of the two sisters and their Servants. If it was herself and Berserker against the sisters and their Servants they might be able to turn the situation around, but with their allies coming to join the battle? There was simply too much stacked against them now.

It was time to leave.

"Come, beast! We're leaving!" she cried to Berserker, stretching forth her hand. The crazed and thrashing Servant immediately dematerialized into spirit form at her call. She cast one last hateful glance at Rin, the young woman glaring back as she readied her jewels to throw. With a sneer Caster pointed at her, her own body beginning to fade away as she fled.

"This isn't over," she whispered. And with that, she was gone.

Rin let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and leaned again a tree for support. She could feel Archer approaching her, but it was Sakura who came out of the underbrush to lay a hand on Rin's shoulder. The older sister rested her hand atop the younger's, taking strength from her concern.

"I'm all right, but what about you? I felt you unleash some of your power."

"I'm fine. I didn't use much of it, so it should be okay."

Sakura smiled a pained smile, forcing herself to breathe evenly. In truth her vision was blurred, and she had to make herself breathe slowly. But it was fading, and soon it would be gone. She'd have her strength back quickly enough, and then they'd meet up with the others. Plans needed to be set, and action taken. Tonight's combat had merely been the beginning of the war, and other battles assuredly loomed on the horizon. But for now they could rest, and comfort one another in the stillness after the hectic attack.

So they sat there, taking pleasure in the quiet after the storm, and waited for their Servants to come.

o\O/o

The silver haired magus wandered through his sanctum, honestly glad that most of the Servants had left to do battle. The whole lot of them were like squabbling children. Right before they had left he'd had to restrain Caster from starting a battle with Gilgamesh over his murder of her lover. Though he cared little if one, or both, of them died, he couldn't afford them destroying his home. The two of them could do it easily if they tried, and if both of them threw power around trying to kill each other they'd likely bring the whole facility down by accident.

He walked past the archway toward the heart of his lair. The hallway looked remarkably cleaner and better set here, unlike the half carved caverns that the Servants had seen. He's already had to burn a command seal to ensure none of them entered this place. There was too much here that he needed. Too much that he cared about…

His eyes lingered on the door to her room as he passed by. He knew she'd be there; sitting and staring at whatever caught her eye at the time. He wanted to go in there, to hold her and take care of her. But he had to ensure everything was in order first. He had to ensure that the system would hold. It was yet another way the life of magic interfered with what was truly important to him.

Syllia… I'll be with you soon.

A flash of pain took him from his thoughts, and he gripped his chest as it ran its course. As it was, he was having a hard time breathing with the number of Servants who had left to combat the other Masters. Fire coursed through his blood as they unleashed their powers, and he'd even noticed colors fading in his vision occasionally, bathing the world in grey. It seemed despite all his countermeasures it was still a horrible burden to be the Master of so many Servants. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if all of them had gone at the same time. But this number… he could handle it. He could perhaps handle even a little more, and it was not as if he trusted Gilgamesh to go out on his own. Best to keep that one close in any case.

Still, he mused as he wandered further down the corridor, none of them had perished. He could feel the battle was over, felt his tools returning to him. This initial conflict had bloodied both sides, but none of the Servants had died. This was aggravating, but not unexpected. Heaven's Feel usually took some time to wrack up the casualty count, but it was a surety that it would. Soon enough there would be death.

"Heh heh heh."

The raspy, disgusting chuckle broke him out of his thoughts. He turned toward one shadowed corner and narrowed his eyes. There, hiding just out of sight, was his unfortunate ally in this entire scheme.

"Going to check on the core system?" Makiri Zouken asked as he stepped into view, leaning heavily on his cane. "Or perhaps the prana batteries? I'd check on both, to be sure. Need to make sure the framework can support the battles to come. It won't mean anything if it falls apart thanks to one little skirmish."

"The system will hold," the magus responded, sickened by the proximity of the ancient magician. Zouken simply smiled at him and opened one bulbous eye.

"So you say, so you say. Frankly, I'm amazed you managed to get it up and running even with my help. So many resources I had to give you, so much research we had to share, and all on a long shot chance. But you pulled it off! Who would have thought that Jubstacheit's old errand boy would grow up to be so capable?"

Zouken's smile grew wider, but the magus' expression only tightened further. Such a backhanded compliment, but he wasn't fooled. Zouken didn't care that he'd managed to do the impossible. All the old worm wanted was to hammer in the fact that he couldn't have achieved it without his help.

The filth I have to ally myself with, he thought with no small amount of self-loathing. But it was true. He needed Zouken, for now anyway. The old man supplied him with what he had needed to pull off this miracle, as well as the means of transporting the Servants relatively quickly. Without him, none of this would have been possible.

But he didn't have to like it.

"I'm surprised to see you up and about," the magus said, ignoring Zouken's attempts to get under his skin. "You seem paler than you were a few days ago. Are you well? Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to retire for the evening. Old men need rest, after all."

Zouken's smile faded swiftly, replaced with a snarl of anger before he could compose himself. Now it was the magus' turn to smile. The bastard hated it when he reminded him of his age.

"I don't see why you're humoring them," the Makiri head responded, dropping all pretenses at civility. "It's a magnificent lie, to be sure, telling them they can all achieve their wishes. But wouldn't it have been easier to simply order them to kill each other? We'd have gotten the fuel we needed then."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the magus shot back, more comfortable now that the charade had come tumbling down. He didn't like having to put up with Zouken's attempts at wit. "Just order them all to kill each other, never mind the fact that they could likely kill me in the crossfire. Or perhaps one would survive at the end and attack me then? Both would work for you, wouldn't it?"

Zouken didn't make any denials, simply staring at the magus with his bug like eyes. What point would there be in making such an obvious lie? The old man would truly be better off if he could wrench complete control away from his partner. He just smirked again, letting the man know how little he cared if he died.

"And then there's the fact that we don't know if seven Servants would be enough." Zouken's smirk died again. "After all, it's a new system. It might require more power."

"It's a pathetic, shoddy system is what it is!" Zouken snapped back, his lips drawn back to reveal yellowed teeth. He didn't seem to care that his words went against what he'd said earlier, but it wasn't as if the magus truly believed half of what Zouken ever said even at the best of times. "You couldn't even summon new Servants! All you've done is recycle the remnants of the old ones. It's a mockery of what we accomplished centuries ago under Zelretch!"

"And it's all you've got, you insect," the magus growled, his amber eyes glowing in the dim illumination provided by the crystal lights. "So make do or shut up. If I go down, you'll follow soon after. Don't forget who rescued you after El Melloi broke your body to pieces."

"I'll get even with him," Zouken muttered as he looked aside, slouching a little as he remembered their battle years ago. "He won't get by with just a sucking chest wound next time."

"Yes, yes I'm sure. But for now, leave me be. I have work to do."

He turned and walked away, and after a little while he felt Zouken return to his chambers. Now very properly in a foul mood, he unlocked the door at the very end and walked inside. Hundreds of wards sprang to life briefly before dying down, recognizing their architect.

The room was comfortable, if plain. He'd made sure to make it so for his guests. The walls were finely cut and painted a soothing sky blue, comfortable to the eye. The temperature was kept at a just between warm and cool, and the lights were so dim they almost seemed to not exist. All this, of course, was to ensure those resting here did not suffer any discomfort. After all, it wouldn't do to risk them waking.

Men and women of various ages rested on several beds, clad in pure white robes made from some downy substance. Each had their eyes closed and IV drips attached to their arms, as well as monitors measuring their heart rates. The magus checked each in turn, making sure they all lived. Some showed signs of strain, remarkable considering they were in a vegetative state, but were otherwise all right.

But most importantly, he then checked to make sure his connection to them was stable. He let out a relieved sigh when he found it to be so. He'd gone through too much effort to acquire people with enough magic circuits to serve his purposes. The ether lines set into their bodies continued to pulse strongly as he observed his work, leading up from them and straight to himself.

So far the attachments were holding. He'd been concerned that they might have broken loose during the combat his Servants had put themselves through, but thankfully this was not the case. Zouken hadn't been far wrong in his assessment of the new Grail system. It was crude, and he'd made several alterations to the original design. Most of that had been necessity; only the bedrock had remained of the original. Enough for him to work with, but it was hardly ideal. But a few changes he'd made he had done to ensure he could control the mob he'd surrounded himself with. These living batteries ensured his connection, and thus his dominance.

That done, he went on to the door opposite where he'd walked in, going down as short hallway before entering the next room. This one was not comfortable at all. It smelled horrible, like sulfur and burnt flesh. Various apparatus, both mundane and magical, were scattered about on the numerous worktables lining the walls. There wasn't any rhyme and reason to their organization, but the magus knew where everything was located. He simply hadn't had enough time to clean up after accomplishing his triumph.

A tortured groan greeted him as he entered, and he could not help but smile at the sound.

"So, you've finally decided to visit me," a weak voice called from within, and the magus set his face to a neutral expression. There, inside a giant contraption of metal and tubes, was chained a man. His skin was dark, and he was covered in tattoos that marked almost every square inch of his body. His short black hair matted his face, which was covered in sweat. His expression was wracked with discomfort, but he still managed to give his captor a cocky grin. "Took you long enough. No words to say to an old friend?"

The magus kept his expression calm as he walked forward, though it was difficult. Bitterness welled in his throat like bile as he moved, threatening to choke him if he let himself be overcome by it. He stopped just outside the large circle of iron that surrounded the cylinder the man hung inside. Three smaller circles lay inside, of gold and silver and copper. Each was marked with eldritch runes, wards of containment and binding. He had taken no chances with this one. Interspersed within them were also runes designed to inflict prolonged, continuous agony. They were not necessary, but he'd put them there anyway. This creature deserved nothing less.

"You are not my friend, Avenger," he said with ice in his voice, his mask cracking a fraction as he bared his teeth. "Not after what you did, what you failed to do."

"So it really is you," the bound Servant said softly, all mirth draining from his voice. His pain became more apparent on his face, and his eyes took on a manic gleam as he strained against his bonds. He tried to reach for his captor, desperately struggling against his bonds and the power placed in the circles around him. But it was for naught. The chains held, and Avenger could not move even the slightest inch beyond the first circle. "Why have you done this? I was free! Finished! I was finally at peace! And then you drag me back. Why?"

"To make you pay for your failure."

"She was already dead!" Avenger shouted back, once more pushing against his chains. "There was nothing I could have done! I was commanded to flee! The seals are absolute!"

"Then you should have tried harder!" the magus roared, fire burning in his eyes. "It was your fault it got to that point! Your fault he left us to die!" The mask of calm broke utterly, and rage reigned supreme on the magus' face. He leaned close, almost breaking the circle. Avenger could see the hate in the old man's face, bleeding in to every aspect of his countenance and tone. A hate so pure it could set the world on fire, see everything die and not care as he perished along with everything else. It was a terrifying, maddening expression of pain and wrath that frayed the edges of sanity. "But you'll make up for it. Oh yes, my precious Holy Grail, you will."

o\O/o

The hotel room was clean, if spartanly furnished. It wasn't meant to be stayed in for long periods. Which suited the old man seated on the left of the window side table fine. He hadn't desired to stay in Japan for even a minute longer than necessary. And even though things had gotten significantly more complicated than simply giving respects to the dead, he was happy that he would still be leaving soon. Japan had too many bad memories, too many ghosts.

"So," the old man began, speaking to the other seated in front of him. "The last thing you remember is Caster's attack?"

He was addressing a man in his middle years, though one might think him older at first glance. He had a full gray beard and his hair was mostly the same color, though some black strands hung on at the temples. He was dressed austerely, a gray jacket covering his broad shoulders. He cut a dignified figure, with his high cheekbones and piercing brown eyes. No matter what angle you viewed him he looked strong. But more than that, he felt strong. He had a presence about him, like he could lead men through hell and back and tweak the devil's nose along the way. Such force of presence was a rare thing, but he wore it easily like an old jacket, comfortable and familiar.

"Indeed," he said with a powerful voice, though it was laced with a soft accented drawl that permeated every word. "I must admit I was hardly conscious after he struck me. I only saw flashes of the final battle before I faded." He gave small harrumph at the memory, getting a little more comfortable in the high backed chair. "That misanthrope took far too much relish in caving in my chest. One would think a philosopher would be more refined."

The old man nodded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The other man's expression cracked a little, revealing a mild distaste. He stood up and opened the nearby window, letting in some of the summer heat.

"Really, Katsuo," he said with a grimace as he sat back down. "Must you smoke? Those things are disgusting."

Katsuo smirked a little, taking a drag on the cigarette and exhaling the smoke out the now conveniently open window. "You really haven't changed, eh Rider? I prefer pipes now, but I fear I broke mine when I collapsed in the cemetery."

"And you still have some bad habits," Rider responded. "I've heard there are some recent studies that say those things are horrible for you."

"Hah! Recent? Those have been around for over forty years!"

"Forty years that I have not been corporeal, so it is recent to me. And regardless, I can't stand the smell of those things. Something that smells that bad cannot be good for you, my Master."

"A fair point, but I have a little insurance against cancer."

He held up once hand, and there was a gentle rippling under the skin. Rider's expression changed little, but Katsuo recognized certain signs. The man's eyebrows rose slightly, and he sat a little straighter. It was as close to surprise as the austere Servant usually allowed himself even in casual company. It took much to truly rattle him.

"I see you've advanced further in your family's magic, which explains why you do not look your full age. Tell me, is your grandfather still among the living?"

Katsuo's expression darkened. He leaned back, taking a deeper drag on the thinly rolled tobacco in his mouth. The ash grew long before he was finished, and he removed it to tap the thing on the table's ashtray.

"Word down the grapevine was that he died fighting Lord El Melloi II when the man decided to take apart the Grail. Everyone heard about it, and I'm not the most informed of people in that world any more. But ending Heaven's Feel caused enough ripples to reach even a hermit like me."

"And do you believe the rumors?"

Katsuo finished the cigarette and put it out in the tray. "Not one bit. I'll believe that old worm is dead when I see him burn myself. He always had an angle, a back up plan. And the fact that you're back only makes me even more certain. This is his work, I'm sure of it."

"I see," Rider said evenly, seeing how this subject was disturbing his friend. He didn't want to put him through more pain than necessary, but he had to make sure they had all relevant information before they proceeded. Wars were won or lost on such things. "That's a relatively sound piece of judgement, but I doubt that even someone as resourceful as that man could have accomplished the undertaking of remaking the Grail by himself." He leaned forward, his hands steepled under his chin as he looked at the man he called Master. "You know as well as I there is more to this."

Katsuo said nothing, simply sitting and tapping his fingers on the table. Rider waited for him, knew the man needed a little time to move through the pieces and get to the heart of the matter. It almost made the Servant smile, remembering a much younger man he had once had to guide through a supernaturally bloody war. Smaller than others he'd been in, but no less violent or brutal for it. And all through it he'd had this young man by his side, so full of fire and arrogance.

The arrogance seems to have died, thankfully, Rider thought as he observed his Master. But is the fire still there?

It was obvious to the Servant that time had not been kind to his old friend. He was different now, and it had nothing to do with his age. Katsuo was worn down, like a boulder being set upon by the ocean's waves, and the sorrow that he tried to hide shown clearly in his eyes. More had happened to the man after their war, events that had led his Master more sadness than just that bloody conflict alone had wrought. Perhaps it had something to do with why his Master had been in a graveyard when the Servant had returned to the world? Rider hadn't pried, but in his heart he truly wished to know why his friend suffered so. But that could be kept aside for now. The Servant had more immediate concerns. Rider had to be sure his friend's fire was still there, and he knew it would force the man to confront an issue he didn't wish to think about. He could only be so gentle with this. The question had to be asked.

"The Einzbern," Katsuo said after a minute, snapping his fingers. "It has to be. The latest Tohsaka head doesn't seem like she'd do this, considering she helped dismantle the grail if the rumors are correct. If Zouken and the Einzbern worked together then that monster could have remade the grail, though why it brought you back to me instead of summoning new Servants I can't begin to guess. Perhaps there are flaws in the way it was built?"

"I have not the slightest idea of such things," Rider responded. "Magic is a skill I never did give much thought to. I'll leave that to others more learned in such practices."

"Sorry to say, old friend, but I'm the best you have on that front."

"Then I may be thankful, for I can think of no one else I would have to help me on these matters."

Katsuo gave a wry smile, but Rider continued before he could say anything in response.

"I have but one thing to ask before we dedicate ourselves to action. Katsuo, if it is true that Zouken is still alive, will you be willing to face him in battle? I know how you feel about him. I know he frightens you. Are you willing to go against him now?"

Katsuo was silent for a long time, looking out the window into Japan's summer night sky. Rider gave him time, simply looking at him as he awaited response. This was the moment of truth, the question that had needed to be asked when mention of Makiri Zouken passed through Rider's lips. This one answer would determine whether they fought or fled.

His master's face passed through several emotions, from fear to anger to hurt to sadness. They all blurred as the man thought of what he should do, if he should truly commit himself. And Rider saw it all clearly, the Servant's eyes taking in everything with even more acuity than he had even when he'd been alive. And he had been very sharp when he'd been alive.

Finally, after much time, Katsuo turned back to Rider. Unlike before, his expression was neutral and set. The maelstrom of emotions he had felt had settled. He had reached his decision.

"I'm tired of being afraid," he said softly. "I'm tired of failing. If you will stand with me, my friend, I say we fight."

Rider held back a relieved sigh, instead giving his friend a warm smile. "I will always stand with you, Katsuo."

"Thank you, Rider."

"Come now, Katsuo. You can at least call me by my name when we're alone. We're committed to battle now, let us rejoin in our old camaraderie."

Now it was Katsuo who smiled. It was smaller than the other times he'd done so that night, not his usual smirk or something tinged with the sadness of past experience. It was stronger, though. It felt more real, for he felt truly at ease for the first time in a very long time. Rider really hadn't changed. Still so strong, so set. He had lived through so much in his life, and after his life, but he still bore it with his chin held high. It was humbling, as well as inspiring. He could feel his spirits bolstered just standing near him, just from hearing him talk.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Thank you, Robert."


	4. Continued Investigations

Fate/Once More

Continued Investigations

"Ilya," Shirou began as they got situated on the plane. Waver had managed to get them an early flight, and thankfully there weren't many people on board. It was shaping up to be a long day, however, since no matter how you sliced it Germany was a good distance away. Of course, that was secondary to the pouting figure sitting next to Shirou. "You don't have to force yourself come with us. I know how you feel about your home."

"That doesn't matter!" Ilya said, pointing at Shirou. "You promised me you'd be fine, and then you come home covered in blood! Obviously you can't take care of yourself, so I have to come with you to make sure you'll be all right."

Saber, sitting by the window seat, winced at the young woman's words. The snow haired girl noticed, shifting her withering gaze to the Servant's direction. Saber wilted under that stare. Ilya didn't say anything, but the intent rang through loud and clear about how Saber had not been able to keep her promise. Shirou had come home covered in blood from the deep wound on his shoulder, not to mention the fact that his nose had been flattened like a pancake thanks to Diarmuid's fist. Ilya had positively shrieked at that, about how her poor onii-chan's cute face was ruined. She'd gone on and on about it until they'd manage to resolve the whole ordeal by patching Shirou up.

All of which reminded Shirou of yet another worrying issue as Ilya sat in her seat and pouted. She took out six small bottles from her carry on bag, removing a series of pills from each before downing them with a glass of water. Grimacing at the taste of the medicine, she closed her eyes and tried to get a nap in. The sight of the medicine made Shirou think about Ilya's health troubles, and he felt a pang of sorrow lance through his heart.

_So many pills a day, just to stay alive._ The thought brought equal parts sadness and anger, the twin emotions twirling within him and making him feel a little ill. _The Einzbern… How could they arrange for someone to die so young?_

Shirou forced those feelings down with an ease brought on by continued practice and turned toward something he could actually accomplish right now. He turned to Saber, the blonde Servant still visibly ashamed. He put an arm on her shoulder, snapping her out of it.

"Saber, it's fine. I mean, I'm alive, right? So it all worked out in the end."

"Still, you were injured. I failed to keep my promise and I failed to protect you."

"Well," he said sheepishly, rubbing a hand behind his head. "It's not like I make things easy for you. I'll admit I'm a little headstrong."

"Only a little, you say?" Saber responded, a small smile showing it was mostly in jest. Shirou laughed nervously, wondering if perhaps he'd done too good a job getting Saber out of her funk as she continued speaking. "You still charge in more recklessly than even the most foolhardy of knights. Still, you acquitted yourself well. For a mortal magus battling against a Servant like Diarmuid, even if aided by another Servant, you performed admirably."

"You said his name before," he said slowly, seeing a chance to ask something there hadn't been much time to inquire about earlier. "He's from the Fourth War, right? The one Dad and Waver fought in. You knew him?"

"Yes," she said softly, her expression growing sad. "I knew him. I had a hand in the events that ultimately destroyed him. He wasn't exaggerating, Shirou. His fate was a cruel one, and his honor was torn to pieces and thrown in the trash. I told you before your father was a relentless and skilled participant in the war. I don't wish to speak more of it, your memories of him shouldn't be tainted so. But I will tell you that Diarmuid was a broken man by the time of his defeat. Now that he's back he will probably stop at nothing to achieve his goal, likely through me first since I aided in his downfall."

"So he'll attack you again, try to hurt you…" Shirou's grip tightened on the seat, and he grit his teeth. Saber noticed, of course. Her superhuman senses couldn't fail to pick up on it. She put a hand over his.

"Please do not hate him overmuch. He's desperate and in pain. If he will not stand down, the best thing we can do for him is ending his suffering as quickly as possible."

"I'm not sure how much I'll be able to keep myself from hating him," Shirou said honestly, his grip relaxing at her touch. "But I'll try, for you."

_Still…_ he thought to himself. _I wonder what Kiritsugu did to him. What makes a man break like that?_

It was not the first time he'd wondered such things, but that look in Saber's eye when she spoke killed his curiosity. He already knew some of his father's exploits as the "Magus Killer." Much of it had shocked him, and he'd found it difficult to connect it to the man he'd known as father.

_Though it does explain why he looked so sad sometimes._

How many regrets had he died with after all was said and done? Even with his own checkered past, it wasn't something Shirou could properly conceive. It was something he thought of occasionally, when mention of the man came up.

Saber smiled, and Shirou felt something flutter in his stomach. She was so beautiful. He didn't want to think of her getting injured, of that furious spearman hurting her. He couldn't let that happen, no matter how many wounds he had to suffer.

"Saber," he said after a few minutes, stopping briefly as the plan finally ascended into the air. "Are you sure you want me to keep Avalon? I'm sure you could find better use for it. Don't you want to carry it?"

"I know nothing I say will convince you to stand back," Saber said as she leaned into her seat. This was her second plane ride, and she remembered how long the last one had been. She planned to follow Ilya's example and get some rest. Idly she wondered if Berserker was doing the same, the huge man remaining in spirit form down in the cargo hold. Truthfully, she didn't even know if it was possible to sleep while in that state. She hoped it was, for his sake. "And my sword will not always be able to intercept a fatal blow. As such, it is best that Avalon be placed in you for both our sakes. It will allow you to fight, and I will not have to worry that an errant shot will result in your death. And since this time around you have better control over your magic, both Avalon and myself can operate much closer to our full potential. It's the best thing for both of us for you to hold it."

Shirou sighed, realizing he couldn't convince her to take back the holy sheath. He set himself back as well, getting ready for the long flight ahead. Her hand still lay on his, and he couldn't help but smile at the warmth of her touch.

_I've missed this,_ he thought as sleep started to overtake him. _And I barely even realized it until she was back. Whatever happens, I'm glad you're here, Saber._

As Shirou faded off, those around them of course noticed his interactions. While nowhere near full, the plane was far from empty. One man in particular paid special attention from his spot on the other side of the aisle. Alexander was stroking his beard in thought as Shirou and Saber settled in, his grin growing ever wider.

"It's rude to stare," Waver put in, opening a small book as the King of Conquerors was snapped out of his musings.

"Oh? Well, that's true. Still, I can't help but be interested in this," Alexander responded, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Saber is… different. Yes, that's the best way to describe it. She's still fierce and full of fire, but it's almost like she's tempered herself. It's actually a relief. She isn't nearly so painful to look at now."

Waver looked up from his book, catching his partner's eyes. "She did go through a whole other war, you know. From what I understand she and Shirou have a much better relationship than she had with her last Master."

"Hmm. I wonder how much better?"

"That's not really my place to say," Waver said as he turned back to his book. "And it's not as if I've been prying into their situation."

"Well, that's fine," Alexander said as he reclined, straining the poor airplane seat under his bulk. He snatched a book from Waver's pack, a text about modern military strategy, and began thumbing through it. "It's fun to speculate sometimes."

o\O/o

"Are you sure it's a good idea to let them go off without us?" Sakura asked her sister as she set the table for dinner at the Emiya residence. Rin sighed, holding back her frustration at having to deal with her worried sister. She had been fretting ever since they had hastily regrouped and set down their next plan of attack.

Of course, truthfully she couldn't blame her. Sakura wasn't really a fighter. Tactics weren't second nature to her. If she had gone beyond just the basics of magecraft she might have seen the logic of the decision to split up, but the young woman had restricted her learning of the art despite her great potential. In a way it was a bit of a tragedy. Sakura could easily have become one of the greatest mages of the current generation.

But the last thing Rin would ever do was force her sister deeper into a world that had so cruelly hurt her. Sakura had suffered, had endured more than anyone should have been made to endure. Potential be damned, Rin wasn't going to make her sister do anything she didn't feel comfortable doing.

_It's just another sin to add to Zouken's crimes. And our Father's… What an unfair world we live in._

"We have to use our resources accordingly," Rin said softly. "The Einzbern must be questioned, but at the same time we can't leave either Fuyuki or our base of operations unguarded. That's why I'm spending the next few nights here. I'll set up a bounded field to make sure nothing can easily slip in. It won't be perfect, but it should at least delay and give warning if anything tries to force its way in."

"You give yourself too little credit, Rin," Archer said from where sat on the patio, observing the darkening sky. He'd been watching Rin set up the bounded field from the beginning, setting jewels at key points so their energies would overlap. "You've just set down the framework, and I can already feel the field's strength."

"Well," Rin said as she flipped some of her hair over her shoulder, obviously appreciating her Servant's praise. "I do have some practice at it."

"Heh, I'm sure. No way someone like you would have been sitting idly by all this time."

"Naturally," Rin preened, quickly falling into the same rhythm she and her Servant had had back when they were working together. It was a nice feeling, bringing back memories both terrifying and exhilarating. This mystery man had always intrigued her, and she had regretted not being able to know him further after he had sacrificed himself for her.

"It's like watching someone pet a cat," Rider said from the side, taking in the whole thing with a deadpan expression. She looked at Archer, one eyebrow quirking above her visor. "Is it really that simple to get on her good side? I've seen her snap her jaws at people before."

"It's not quite so easy. It takes skill," Archer said with absolutely no modesty, waving a hand in the air with a dramatic flair. "But I have experience with such things."

"I see. Hmm. Well, I have some experience with what you Japanese call tsundere as well. I'll see how I compare."

"Excuse me?" Rin said in a voice just shy of a shriek, her shoulders bunching up to make herself look bigger. It made her resemble the cat Rider had compared her to, an irony lost on the woman in her irritation. She had almost forgotten that Archer also had a bad sense of humor and liked to exercise it whenever possible. "Tsundere?"

She turned on the two of them, berating them and explaining in no uncertain terms that she was not, and never had been, "tsundere." Archer simply responded by smirking wider, and Rider had a small smile cracking her stoic façade. Off to the side, Sakura giggled at their antics. She knew she shouldn't be taking enjoyment at her sister's distress, but the whole affair was just so silly she couldn't help but laugh a little at it. And it felt so good to laugh at something. It distracted her from her worries about the group leaving for Germany, and for what had happened before….

"_Sakura," Saber said softly as they regrouped at the Emiya compound. "Please, stand with me. I would speak with you."_

_The shy young woman hesitated, but Saber's eyes were imploring. Reluctantly she let herself be led away from the rest of the group, coming to a stop inside the dojo. It was a good distance away from the living room where everyone was detailing their experiences against the enemy. _

"_Yes, Saber? Do you need something?"_

_Saber fidgeted a little, as if looking for the right words to say. It was strange to see the confidant woman stumble so. Sakura remembered her as a bastion of strength, unflinching in the face of turmoil and strife. Inwardly, Sakura was berating herself. She had gone and made everything awkward between the two hours before and now the two of them could hardly speak with each other without tension. Finally, though, after a straight minute of waiting, Saber managed to organize herself._

"_About what you said earlier, before we left to check the spiritual sites…"_

"_I'm so sorry!" Sakura blurted out, interrupting the Servant. "It all just came out and I know it must have been distracting and I'm really, really sorry-"_

_Saber held up a hand, cutting her off. Sakura held a hand over her mouth to stop herself, but relaxed when she saw Saber give her a small smile._

"_Peace, Sakura. It's all right." She paused again, though it was shorter than before. Saber took a deep breath and continued. "I just wanted to say… I wanted to ask you to take care of Shirou in case I cannot."_

_Sakura blinked._

"_What?_

"_There is no guarantee I will remain once this war is done, whether I fall in battle or disappear once the Grail has been disposed of. I fear that being here again and then being separated from him once more will hurt him."_

_Saber took Sakura's hands in her own, drawing the young woman closer._

"_If that happens, if I vanish again, please take care of him. I do not want him to hurt. He won't say anything, but we both know he hides his own feelings. He thinks he would be a burden on people. So please, Sakura. Please make sure he is all right."_

She had been so adamant, so concerned. It was a strange state for the normally confident Servant. When Sakura had looked her eyes she had seen nothing but concern there, a wish that the man they both loved would be all right.

It confused her a little. Saber had him, wholly and truly in a way she never could. But the woman asked so firmly for her help. It should have made her angry. In truth, she had felt the stirrings of such soon after she and Shirou had left.

But the concern in Saber's voice always squashed those feelings before they could get the chance to fester. There had been no mockery in her voice, no gloating that she held his heart while Sakura did not. All that had been there was an earnest, complete desire that the man they both loved would be all right should Saber vanish into the wind once more. And Sakura could not, would not, begrudge that.

_Maybe he can't ever be mine,_ Sakura thought. _But perhaps... Perhaps I can continue by his side._

"Hmphh," Rin tsked as she sat back down, snapping Sakura out of her musings. "Calling me a tsundere. The nerve of that woman."

She looked like she was going to begin ranting, but stopped when she saw Sakura's pensive expression.

"Sakura? Are you all right?"

"Oh yes," Sakura responded, making sure none of her previous thoughts made themselves known on her face. "I was just thinking about some things."

"Okay," Rin said, clearly not entirely convinced. "Still, if anything's bothering you, you can tell me."

"Of course."

The night wore on, and the four residents spoke more as Rin set up further additions to the protective bounded field, layering the grounds with gem tipped poles that warped the air and caused faint shimmers like a heat haze. As she did this the Servants made sure to keep one eye out into the night, keeping watch for any suspicious movement. Archer's eyes could count the leaves on a tree over two miles away, and Rider's senses were so acute that she could tell where things were even while her sight was blocked.

None of them, however, noticed the dark shape observing them from the trees several blocks away. It made note of every movement, of every little shift in the air as it watched its targets. They were strong, and their defenses sturdy. But not even they could detect the black clad spy, and that, the shadowy figure mused as he performed his duty, would be their downfall. So while they peered out, so too did the skull masked interloper peer in, watching all of them closely with unblinking eyes.

o\O/o

Shirou shivered a little and sank deeper into the confines of his jacket. Despite it being summer, the altitude of the German mountains was chilling him to the bone. The cold was biting even through the van's heater, and he was beginning to realize he'd packed far too lightly for this trip.

_Then again, it's not as if I have much clothing left anyway._ He slumped a little more, crossing his arms to keep in warmth. _Should have remembered my bag when I ran back to the house._

"Are you all right, Shirou?" Saber asked as she leaned next to him. She already knew the answer, of course, but perhaps talking could help distract him from the chill. And if that didn't… well, she certainly didn't mind staying close to him so he could benefit from her body heat.

"I'm fine," he responded. "I just underestimated how cold it would be."

"It's always cold this high up, Onii-chan," Ilya said with a giggle, looking oh so comfortably warm in her thick purple coat. "You should have bought a thicker jacket back at the village."

"I'll remember that next time," the young man muttered ruefully.

"If we're lucky, there won't be a next time," Waver said from the driver's seat, Alexander sitting shotgun by his side. For once he wasn't chewing on a cigar, keeping the window closed to catch as much warmth as possible. "The Einzbern are stubborn. I'd prefer not to have to come back here."

"Will they even let us in?" Ilya asked, her expression turning serious. "They locked my father out before, and they didn't open the bounded field for me either."

Saber felt Shirou tense up a little at Ilya's words, his shoulders clenching as he sat up straighter. He'd explained what happened to her, that the Einzbern had disowned Ilya after her failure to win the Grail War. She wished she could find it shocking, but in truth she was used to the cruel ways both mages and the aristocracy could treat their children.

"They'll let us in if they know what's good for them," Waver growled, irritated without his tobacco fix. "They know we're coming. The Einzbern might not be part of the Association, but they'll not be so brazen as to turn aside someone acting on its authority."

"I don't know," Ilya said wistfully, looking out the window at the passing scenery. The landscape was covered in white powder, and even now a light snow was falling across the mostly untamed wilderness. Only the crude road showed any sign that humans had touched this land. "Grandfather doesn't like outsiders."

"Truer words have never been spoken," came Waver's response. "But even that old goat knows he can't keep us out without more people coming to press upon his precious privacy."

"I look forward to seeing him, myself," Alexander said as he flipped through his book. "I'd like to see if the man matches up to everything I've heard about him."

"He's all of that and more," Shirou whispered bitterly to himself. Ilya gave him a sad smile, reaching out to put her mittened hand on his knee. Shirou pushed his anger away and smiled back, placing his hand over hers as they continued their drive.

The drive continued in for the better part of an hour, everyone spending their time in their own ways. Alexander continued to read, Waver continued to wish he could smoke and Saber and Ilya spoke with Shirou about what he was doing in medical school. Then, suddenly, Waver pulled the van to a stop.

"Finally," he said as he got out of the car, pulling a cigar from his jacket and lighting it. The others followed suit, Heracles coming into being by Ilya's side as they looked at the outline of an impressive castle over a mile away. The whole structure was locked in a massive snowstorm that took up most of that space, the result of the powerful bounded field that protected the Einzbern lands. The tempest raged fiercely, the snow almost a solid wall as the wind flung it about.

Waver lifted a metal rod above his head, sending forth a jet of green light. It went fifty feet into the air before exploding in a small display of emerald sparkles. The motes lingered for several minutes, shifting through the air before disappearing among the falling snow.

"Now we wait," Waver said as he put the rod back into a pocket within his jacket, the tool joining several other devices locked within the man's crimson apparel. "And hope they won't make us stay a while in the cold out of spite."

"If they do," Heracles said in a voice not unlike rocks grinding together. "I will walk through the storm and smash the gates open. There are rules for hospitality."

Ilya smiled up at Heracles, who simply looked ahead stoically. He did, however, move one giant hand closer to hers. She gripped one of his large fingers in her left hand while she held on to Shirou's with her right.

"A direct frontal assault, eh?" Alexander mused as he observed the storm. "Well, it could work for you. I'd be a little hard pressed to make it through so easily, myself."

"The real issue isn't so much the temperature as it is visibility. We could easily become lost in the storm and wander in the wrong direction," Saber put in. "I could use Invisible Air to give us a space of calmer wind, allowing us easier passage."

"So we could force our way in if we needed to?" Shirou asked, only just managing to keep himself from a hopeful tone.

"Of course," Waver responded. "We have the might of three Servants on our side. There isn't much that could stop us if we put our minds to it. For now, though, let's keep that on the back burner. Look, the storm's already dying."

As if brought about by his words, the howling gale that surrounded the Einzbern lands began to die. The swirling eddies of snow went from a breakneck pace to merely rapid, and from rapid to sedate. The castle was fully visible now, as was the small cobblestone path that led to it. Tapping out a small bit of ash from his cigar, Waver motioned forward.

They walked the remaining distance. It may have been cold, but they'd been stuck in a freezing car for over an hour by this point and all of them wanted to stretch their legs. Shirou was actually feeling a little warmer now that he was finally moving, a welcome change.

The heavy oaken doors to the mansion opened as they came close, two young women with exactly the same faces standing ready. Shirou blinked a little at them, confused.

_Sella and Leysritt? But they're back in Fuyuki… Oh, right. Homunculus. _

"Greetings, Lord El Melloi," the woman on the left said in a monotone voice. "You have been expected. Please follow us to the audience chamber. Our master has been waiting for you."

"Very well," Waver responded. Putting out the remains of his cigar in the snow. "Lead on. We shall follow."

They were led through a wide hallway with tall windows. The floor was stone, covered in a thick carpet that absorbed the noise of their footfalls. The inner wall was covered with the occasional tapestry, woven with images of men and women performing what appeared to be great feats of magic. The ceiling was supported by tall pillars and arches built into the walls, each obviously made by master craftsmen and maintained by those equally as skilled.

Shirou was amazed at the architecture, but even more he was amazed that it existed so far away from anything. The nearest town was over an hour further down the mountain. The Einzbern never allowed strangers inside their home if they could help it, which meant they kept all this wondrous beauty to themselves.

The two maids were taking care not to make eye contact with Ilya, something that made Shirou grind his teeth. They seemed to be ignoring him as well. When they'd spoken before they'd only addressed Waver.

Alexander took the front with Waver while Shirou and Saber went along behind them. Ilya and Heracles took the rear, seeing as the giant man took up almost as much space as the hallway had to offer. They walked a good five minutes before they were brought in to a large antechamber. The room was obviously built to impress, the top of the chamber set with several stained glass windows, one of which was set directly behind a large wooden throne set a few step higher than the floor.

"The master will be with you shortly. Would you like refreshment while you wait? There is an excellent selection of wine."

"No, thank you," Waver responded politely. "Simply inform Lord Einzbern that we are here."

"I'll have some, if you don't mind," Alexander said with his usual booming voice, the chamber making it echo in interesting ways. Waver gave the man a sideways glare, but the King of Conquerors simply ignored it. "And what of you, King of Knights? Heracles? Would either you or your Masters like refreshment? It has been a long journey."

"I am fine," Saber said coolly, keeping an eye on the maids. Shirou simply shook his head, while Ilya did not say anything. The two homunculi continued to ignore they were there.

"I wish to keep a clear head," Heracles said in voice that was quiet for him. It still came out like a growl. "No need for accidents."

Alexander laughed. "More for me then!"

The maids returned a short time later with cups and a pitcher of deep red wine, which Alexander tore into heartily. Five minutes, and three cups, later, the doors opened once more to admit a tall man clad in white robes highlighted in gold trim, his hair silver as it settled around his shoulders. His beard came down like a neatly parted waterfall, immaculately groomed and giving the man an imperious look. He had the appearance of refined age tempered with power and experience, coming off stronger rather than weaker from his lost youth. The old magus held himself almost ramrod straight, confident in himself and the authority he wielded. He walked calmly, neither hesitating nor rushing, and stopped in front of the throne, looking down at the group assembled before him.

"You had best have a very good reason for this meeting, Lord El Melloi. I do not appreciate the presence of the traitor Kiritsugu's offspring within my home."

Shirou bristled at that, and was about to say something when Ilya put a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, but she was staring straight ahead. She gripped his arm almost to the point of pain, her eyes locked on the man she called grandfather.

Waver waved a hand toward the three Servants. Saber and Heracles were glaring at the man, while Alexander was simply observing everything as he sipped his wine. "My reasons are more than justified. As you can see, Servants have taken form once more even though the Holy Grail Wars were finished. It's started again."

Jubstacheit took a deep breath, and while his face remained impassive his eyes were shining with a disturbing fire.

"So it's really true," he said softly, almost reverently as he examined the Servants. "It has begun again."

"Yes," Waver said slowly, trying to gauge this reaction. "The Grail system has been rebuilt somehow. I want to know if you had anything to do with it."

That snapped the old man out of the trance he'd fallen into. He glared at Waver, his lips coming back in a snarl.

"That sounded very much like an accusation, Lord El Melloi."

"Take it however you please," Waver responded, all pretense at civility dropping in the face of the older magus' hostility. "Just so long as you answer our questions. There were hints of your family's influence when we fought Zouken six years ago. We're making sure there aren't any now."

"As I recall the Association already performed an investigation into my family after they foolishly agreed to dismantle the Grail. Nothing was found."

"Investigations can be reopened, Lord Einzbern. Take care that you don't give me reason to do so. Who knows what kind of damage it could do to your family if it was found you were hiding involvement in not one, but two matters of such importance?"

"Threats, now?"

"Just facts, Lord Einzbern. There have already been fights between Servants, some of which I don't recognize from either the Fourth or Fifth wars. Help us now or it will mean trouble for you later."

Jubstacheit took in a deep breath, his shoulders shaking in rage as he looked down at Waver. Waver, on the other hand, simply stared back impassively. Alexander had moved behind his Master, towering over the man and looking at the Einzbern head from behind the rim of his cup.

"Describe these unfamiliar Servants you speak of," Jubstacheit said at last, anger laced through every word.

"I only personally saw one. Huge, covered in bronze armor. He was a Lancer, admitted to being Achilles."

"Yes," Jubstacheit interrupted. "I remember him. He was from my war, the Third Heaven's Feel. The man was a terror on the battlefield. For a while he seemed the most likely to win."

"I want everything on both him and the Third War that you have in your possession."

"Lacking details on the War, Lord El Melloi?" Jubstacheit was grinning. It wasn't a pleasant sight. "I take it he caused you some trouble? Achilles is very good at that."

"Servants always cause trouble when they're attacking you."

"Did he kill anyone? He caused a fair bit of collateral damage back in the day. The man was hardly a Lancer at all, really. If we hadn't exchanged the Berserker class with Avenger, he would almost assuredly have been summoned as one."

"If you hadn't summoned Avenger then none of this would be happening!" Shirou cut in, no longer able to keep quiet in the face of the older man's attitude. Ilya tugged on Shirou's sleeve to try and make him stay quiet, but the young man simply charged on. "You're the cause of all this suffering! Of everyone's suffering! You tainted the Grail!"

"We could have fixed the Grail!" Jubstacheit shouted back. "If Kiritsugu had told us what happened we would have fixed everything! Instead, he betrayed us! I'm not surprised someone raised by that filth would be as shortsighted as he was! We never should have dealt with slime like him!"

"Do not talk about my father like that!"

"Oh?" the older man said as he sat down, looking all the while like a king humoring a peasant. "Tell me, Shirou Emiya, what do you really know of him? Are you trying to follow in his footsteps, travelling the world as you do?"

That struck Shirou cold. "Wha… What? How do you know about that?"

"Believe me, I'm well aware of your exploits. You haven't gotten nearly as much blood on your hands as your Father, but I'm sure you can catch up if you set down your scalpel and take up your sword more often. You're well on your way there, from what I'm told. How many have you killed already?"

"Silence!" Saber yelled, moving closer to Shirou. But the young man hardly noticed, so caught up as he was with his own thoughts. "Not one more word out of your mouth!"

"Was it just the one, or have there been more? Tell me, boy, I'm ever so interested to see if influence tells as strongly as blood."

"I said be silent!" Saber roared, the air around her starting to pick up violently. She was all but snarling at Jubstacheit, who leaned back a little in the face of her anger. The others were surprised as well, moving back a fraction from the irate swordswoman as the wind blew, softly now but with the promise of a tempest. Shirou, for his part, was too lost within himself to realize what was happening around him.

_He knows!_ Shirou screamed in his head, his mind careening at breakneck speeds. _How does he know?_

Memories flashed through Shirou's head. The sweltering heat of Africa, far worse than anything he'd experienced in Japan. Refugee camps filled with starving people, everyone sick from one thing or another. But most of all he remembered the knife. He remembered it leaving his hand, the blood running down the man's throat as he fell to the ground gasping for breath that never came. It had been necessary. He'd told himself that again and again. It had been necessary…

His legs were shaking. Saber had one arm under his own, supporting his weight. He hadn't even realized she'd moved. Ilya stood in front of him, glaring at Jubstacheit with crimson eyes narrowed into sharp slits. For his part, the older Einzbern just smiled.

"Enough!" Waver roared, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. "Jubstacheit von Einzbern, you will give me the information we require about your participation in the third Holy Grail War! Furthermore, you will cooperate fully in my investigation into the matter of this new War."

"And if I refuse? Come now, Lord El Melloi. This is a grand opportunity! We can use this new Grail to restore the Third Magic! Think of it, man! Think of the potential! Magecraft renewed to heights undreamed of in hundreds of years!"

"The potential of a Grail tainted by the evil of Angra Mainyu? Have you completely lost your mind? It was built from the remnants of the old system, Jubstacheit! It's still corrupted!"

"I already told you we can fix it!" the older magus said desperately, not caring about the impropriety invoked by Waver using the man's first name. "Please, you can convince the Association! With their aid I'm sure we can make it work properly this time!"

"The ritual of Heaven's Feel has been performed five times," Waver said slowly, regaining his composure. "And all five times it has been marked by great misery and loss of life. Nothing you say will convince those in charge of the Mage's Association that Heaven's Feel is worth continuing."

"And you honestly expect me to believe the heads of the Association care about the deaths of the common rabble?" He reclined, supporting his chin with his fist. "Please. You insult my intelligence."

"You're right. They don't care about that. But I'll tell you what they do care about, the secret of magic. And that secret has been threatened each and every time Heaven's Feel has come about. They won't stand for it, Jubstacheit. And if you get in the way of our stopping it, they'll come down on you like the fist of an angry god. There won't be anything left of you when they're done."

Jubstacheit stood up, shaking and trembling with barely contained rage. He looked wild eyed at Waver, who simply looked back with a face set in stone. Then, suddenly, he turned to Ilya.

"Ilyasviel!" he cried, making her flinch at the sudden attention. "You cannot let them do this! Please, Ilyasviel, take your Servant and fight for the Einzbern once again in this new Holy Grail War! Fulfill the destiny denied to you by outsiders and grasp victory for your family!"

There was silence then. For a few tense seconds all eyes were on Ilya. The silver haired homunculus blinked once, then twice at this new development. And then her face became a mask of anger that warped her normally cherubic expression.

"You are not my family," Ilya spat back, making Jubstacheit blink in surprise. "How dare you? How dare you! You lied to me about my father, and then you left me to die after the fighting stopped. If Shirou and Waver hadn't sought help for me I wouldn't even be here."

"You let outsiders meddle with the secrets of the Einzbern!"

"I let other alchemists save my life after you decided I didn't deserve it. And now you're asking me to fight for you? I refuse. Your dream is dust old man. Wallow in it."

The flick of a lighter broke through any further conversation. Waver lit his cigar and took a deep puff, the smoke wafting around him like a shroud.

"I do believe that covers every possible option you had, Lord Einzbern. If you're quite finished with posturing, I believe I requested some information from you."

The older man's shoulders slumped, though his face had returned to an impassive mask. Despite his stoicism it was obvious he was beaten, however.

"Fine," he said softly. "I will give you the records of our trials in the Third War. We assigned a lesser member of the family, Emil, to do so. You shall have it." He gave a wolfish grin. "Though I'm afraid I do not know how to fully unlock it. He left many seals on it after he went out on his own. You'll have to devote some time to figuring out how to perceive its contents."

"What? That's ridiculous!" Shirou protested.

"I agree. What use is information we cannot grasp?" Saber added.

Waver, for his part, simply took another deep drag on his cigar and exhaled roughly. "Fine, we'll take it. I have some questions for you as well before we leave."

"You have my full cooperation," Jubstacheit said in a tone that implied anything but.

o\O/o

"The nerve of that man," Saber muttered as they made their way back to the van. Behind them the bounded field was once more activating itself, slowly filling up the space behind them with a raging snowstorm. "What use is information we cannot even see?"

"We'll find a way to crack it, Saber," Shirou responded. "Right, Waver?"

"Of course," the older man said as he observed a gold necklace inlaid with a very large blue gem. "It might take some time, but there doesn't seem to be anything on this that is beyond our abilities. Especially Tohsaka's."

"Still, are we sure that the information we're looking for is in there? I mean, it's just a necklace."

"It's the gem, actually," Waver said as he pocketed the thing. "There's a matrix carved into the crystal with magic, and when mana is run through it will replay the events etched into it. After we've dealt with the security measures set inside, of course."

"So it's basically just a video camera?"

"Essentially, but considering the Third War was back in the thirties it would have been a rather remarkable way to gather information at the time. Tell me, Ilya. Do you recall an Emil von Einzbern? I've not heard of him before."

"Neither have I. He must have been from a minor branch of the family. They have other compounds in the mountains where they live."

"Huh. Assuming he's still alive, he might be worth seeking out. Jubstacheit wasn't too clear on the matter. But that's for another time."

He turned to Alexander, who had been remarkably quiet during the whole endeavor with the Einzbern head. Alexander looked back, a pleased look on his face.

"Alexander, I'd like to ask you something. Would you say Jubstacheit was lying about anything he said as we questioned him?"

The large Servant rubbed his beard for a second, recalling the conversation in the audience room and the interrogation that had occurred afterward. "I would have to say no. Nothing he said sounded false to my ears."

"I concur," Heracles rumbled. "The man didn't hold himself like he was lying."

"I have to reluctantly agree," Saber put in. "My instincts tell me he was speaking the truth. I do not think responsible for the reemergence of the Grail."

"Can we really believe that?" Shirou asked. He crossed his arms to hold in warmth, the outside chill and the rising wind behind them quickly reminding him of just how cold it was at this altitude. "The man's a monster. He lied to Ilya about Kiritsugu and he could have been lying to us right now about being involved with this new war."

"It's a possibility," Alexander admitted. "But think of this. He all but demanded that the little miss set Heracles on us. Why do that when he could use his own Servants to attack us by surprise? In such a confined space it would have been devastating."

"So just because he didn't attack us inside means he didn't have any Servants to do so?"

"I see what he's saying," Saber added. "Caught up in the heat of the discussion we would have been perhaps a second slower to react than we normally would, a hesitation that could easily have been fatal. It would have been the best time to strike us, yet he did not."

"Rightly so, King of Knights!" Alexander said with a laugh. "I see you're still as sharp as ever!"

"And your laughter is still as annoying as ever," Saber responded, which only made Alexander laugh harder.

"Hah! You're so cold, Saber! You make this winter chill seem balmy in comparison!"

"That doesn't mean he was telling the truth," Shirou muttered.

"He could have been lying, but somehow I doubt even someone like Jubstacheit could convincingly deceive the senses of not one, but three Servants," Waver said. "Aside from Alexander's point about him begging Ilya to come to his side rather than attack us then with his own Servants, there's also the fact that we didn't see any Command Seals on his hands. At this point I'm fairly certain it's a rogue Einzbern that's the cause of all this."

"And we're just going to write him off as a suspect with just this one meeting?"

"Of course not. The Association, and possibly even the Church, will be sending men here to investigate and question the old goat further. He'll complain mightily, of course, and undoubtedly hide his research. But Jubstacheit knows he can't keep us out, and that if he tries it'll only mean more trouble for him. For now, our group is going to have to pursue other leads."

Shirou didn't respond, instead sinking deeper into hi jacket in a sulk as they trudged along. Saber gave him a worried look, trying to piece together what was bothering him so. It obviously drew in part from Ilya's abandonment, but something Jubstacheit had said irked her. She glanced toward Ilya, who was looking at Shirou sadly. Yes, there was definitely something she was missing.

She walked closer to Shirou, drawing him out of his brooding. He looked at her quizzically, but Saber wasn't entirely sure how to phrase her thoughts. Finally, she decided to simply cut to the heart of the matter.

"Shirou, about what Jubstacheit said. Was he taunting you about killing Kotomine? Is that what's disturbing you?"

Shirou's expression turned confused. "What? Why would I-"

"Then what is it?" Saber interrupted. "I've noticed little signs, Shirou. Something is bothering you and Jubstacheit stuck a knife in it to hurt you back at the castle."

"Ah… That." Shirou rubbed the back of his head. It was his turn to look for the right words. "Somehow the old bastard knew about what happened on one of my trips abroad."

Saber didn't say anything, but her expression was inquisitive. Shirou took that as a sign to continue.

"I've been taking volunteer trips with aid agencies for the last several years. Academically, it gives me some extra credit for medical school. But really, I just wanted to help people. It was wasn't easy work, but it was good that I was making a difference in these people's lives, you know?"

Saber smiled. This was so like Shirou, going out to aid others even in lands not his own. It seemed he hadn't changed too much in the time she had been gone, though he seemed more tempered now than he used to be. That was good. It meant he was less likely to do something that would get himself killed.

"But my trip last summer…" Shirou continued, his voice growing a little quieter as he did so. "It didn't end well. Ilya knows, but I haven't told Rin or Sakura yet."

He was silent for a time as they walked. Alexander was chatting with Waver, and Ilya was adding her own commentary occasionally. Heracles, of course, kept an eye on Ilya. It seemed everyone was giving them a little space.

"We were aiding a refugee camp in South Africa, food and basic medical facilities mostly. It was… The conditions were hard, Saber. These people had hardly anything left in the world. All I wanted to do was make things a little easier for them. And then… Some new arrivals came in one day, a few of them really bad off. They didn't look like they'd had any decent food in weeks."

He paused, closing his eyes a little in the face of the oncoming memory. Inhaling deeply, he carried on.

"That night two of them held one of the aid workers hostage. They'd gotten guns somehow, and they were demanding more food. We'd had to start them slowly so they wouldn't just sick up what they'd eaten, but by this point they were almost mad with hunger. I tried talking them down, but they wouldn't listen. They started shouting and I panicked. I Traced a knife and threw it. The man holding the worker died almost instantly. The other ran off, screaming about magic."

Shirou wiped a hand over his face, gripping his lower jaw tightly as he saw events long since transpired. Saber put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her.

"I killed that man," he whispered. "Probably the other one too. They didn't deserve it. All they wanted was some food, and I killed them because I was scared they were going to kill someone else. It's just… It's just such a waste! It's not fair!"

"No," Saber said softly. "It isn't fair. Shirou, what happened was a tragedy. There's no doubt about that. But no one can blame you for this. You did everything you could."

"It still wasn't enough to save them."

"And that is something you'll have to live with. It's just like you said to Archer, Shirou. Just because you can't save everyone doesn't mean you shouldn't try. But that's a hard road, and this is what you'll have to face if you want to walk it."

Saber's hand was still on his shoulder, and Shirou gripped it in his own. He squeezed tightly, but Saber didn't feel any pain. She gave him a sad smile, and Shirou knew that she had had to go through similar pain. That comforted him, strangely, knowing that she understood what he was going through. He'd tried burying his feelings in his work, despite Ilya trying to get him to open up. But now that it had been confronted he could breathe a little easier. It was like some of the weight he'd been feeling had been relieved, and that made him feel better than he'd been in months.

It was a shame he didn't get the chance to enjoy it longer.

"Get down!" Heracles roared. He pushed toward their left, moving far faster than something his size had any right to, and intercepted a truly massive bolt of arcane force. The strength of it stripped the skin from his chest, leaving it bloody and raw. The shockwave of the impact sent snow flying and almost knocked everyone off their feet, but it was the sound that was truly devastating. The scream of displaced air sent Shirou to his knees, covering his ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise. Struggling through the pain, he saw that Waver and Ilya were in a similar predicament.

The noise ended, but for a few moments Shirou couldn't hear anything more than a high pitched ringing. Saber was yelling something at him, but for the life of him he couldn't understand what she was saying. Alexander was shouting also, telling Waver something, but it didn't come as anything but muffled noise.

And then, like a physical blow, hearing came back. Unfortunately, so did a great deal of pain. Shirou stumbled to his feet, trying to maintain his balance.

"Shirou!" Saber yelled, finally able to get through to the young man. "We're under attack!"

Shirou followed where Saber was pointing, looking around Heracles' massive form to look upon their foes. Both Lancers were there, Achilles eager expression contrasted against Diarmuid's rabid one. And floating above them both was Caster, her hands aglow with eldritch purple light.

"Oh damn."


	5. The First to Fall

Fate/Once More

The First to Fall

Shirou immediately summoned Kanshou and Bakuya into his hands, readying himself for the impending conflict. The Lancers and Caster tensed, poised to move forward an initiate the battle. But before anyone could react, Heracles spoke.

"Medea," he called, completely ignoring the fact that his chest resembled strips of bloody meat. The ground at his feet was stained with his blood, and steam pooled off his body as he continued. "It is good to see you again, though I wish it were under different circumstances. Please stand aside. I have no wish to fight you."

Caster winced, a full body expression obvious even behind her cloak and at the distance. The light in her hands died a fraction, flickering slightly in her distress. But she did not disperse them.

"Medea," Heracles called again. "If ever you considered me a friend, please do not make me fight you."

"I would say the same to you, Heracles!" Medea shouted back, her eyes showing for a brief moment from the confines of her hood. And for that single instant, everyone saw the pleading expression on her face. "I owe you a debt for sheltering me so long ago, but I cannot stop now! I'm so close to bringing him back to me, don't you see? Please, Heracles, don't make me kill you."

"I can't let you hurt these people, Medea."

"So be it then. I'm sorry, old friend."

"What are you all on about?" Achilles yelled as he ran forward, shield and spear at the ready. He kicked up huge chunks of snow and ice as his sandaled feet tore into the ground. "Heracles is mine!"

He crossed the distance in a flash and tackled the larger Servant, sending the both of them tumbling through the snow and into the lightly forested region that surrounded the Einzbern land. Achilles struck at Heracles again and again, hitting him with hand and spear and shield, tearing into the still healing flesh of the giant Servant's chest. Heracles, for his part, pounded into Achilles with fists that were larger than the engines of most cars, creating sounds like thunder as they clashed.

And then the fighting was on in earnest. Caster flew forward, making a beeline for Alexander and Waver while Diarmuid shot toward Saber and Shirou. Saber held her sword ready, but was taken by surprise when Diarmuid shifted in his charge to strike at Shirou!

The young man had but a moment to react, getting his swords in the way of Diarmuid's darting spear. The weapon tore through the projections before cutting deeply into his stomach. Shirou pushed back with reinforced legs, just managing to turn a mortal blow into merely a serious injury as he put a little distance between himself and the Servant. But he had no time to rest, because in that moment Diarmuid struck him thrice more, each time drawing blood from wounds the young man was just barely able to keep from killing him.

"Diarmuid!" Saber roared, getting into the fray. She leapt upon him, coming down with her sword in a dazzling series of slashes and thrusts. Diarmuid, however, however, managed to knock them aside with his spear before jumping back. Saber rushed to follow, but the Lancer jumped to the right of her charge, accepting a shallow slash upon his shoulder to rush at Shirou again!

Shirou, by this point, was more than a little winded. Avalon was healing his wounds rapidly, but Diarmuid struck with such speed and ferocity that he was fairly certain he'd well and truly die before the holy sheath could finish fixing him. He Traced Kanshou and Bakuya once more, throwing the pair of them at Diarmuid before summoning the swords once again. The Servant of the spear batted them aside easily, but the delay was enough for Shirou to prepare himself. Diarmuid jabbed toward his throat, which Shirou blocked with Kanshou. The sword shattered at the spear's touch, but still managed to turn the crimson blade aside. Diarmuid followed up with another strike, this one even faster than the previous, and this time Shirou had no choice but to move back and take the blow.

The young man almost couldn't restrain his scream as the Lancer scored his flesh from shoulder to stomach, the wound crossing over the just healed hole in his belly. He managed to knock aside the next attack, barely, thanks to a combination of sacrificing Bakuya and moving just outside of the Gae Dearg's optimal range.

And then Saber was there, slashing deeply into Diarmuid's arm with Excalibur. The handsome Servant cursed and jumped back again, but this time Saber did not follow. She stayed close to Shirou, her presence allowing Avalon to heal him even faster. Despite that, however, the young man was exhausted. In the six seconds or so that he had been at grips with Diarmuid, he'd nearly died three times!

"You're his target, Shirou," she whispered while keeping an eye on Diarmuid, who was expending prana to heal the worst of the damage done to his arm. "Stay close to me."

"Right," Shirou responded. He Traced another set of his signature weapons and got ready. But as Diarmuid turned back to them, a treacherous thought wiggled through his mind.

_Will Saber be able to fight at her fullest while protecting me?_

Alexander and Waver were also having a rough time of it. Caster flitted about, moving this way and that while throwing down truly ludicrous amounts of power. Bucephalus danced around explosions, carrying her master safely through what was quickly becoming a deathtrap. Waver hung on for dear life to Alexander's back as the horse went ever faster to avoid the woman's display of mystical might.

Caster, for her part, maintained her position above the battlefield. She held her staff aloft and chanted ancient words of eldritch power, making the aura that surrounded her flare up. Her voice rose as she pointed her staff down at Alexander and his master, and suddenly things became very strange.

The snow around them rose up, compacting into giant shapes at least ten feet tall. With claws made of ice they reached for the King of Conquerors, but he managed to turn aside from them at the last moment. Howling a distorted cry, like wolves screaming through water, they chased after him. Alexander, meanwhile, drew his sword and charged toward Caster.

"You think you can reach me up here, fool?" she said mockingly, drawing another bolt of power to her hand. The air crackled with the energy she held; ready to unleash itself in explosive fury.

And then Bucephalus took to the air, her hooves riding the empty space as if they were stone! Caster's eyes widened in alarm, and she threw her attack as Alexander rapidly drew closer. But he did not turn aside from her attack, instead plowing through it head on. He laughed uproariously as the power washed over his skin, burning it and ripping apart great chunks of his armor.

And then he was there, and his sword cut deeply into Caster's side as she hastily dodged. She hissed in pain, putting a hand over her wound to stem the bleeding. She muttered a quick spell to knit her flesh, though she couldn't take the time to properly apply it as Alexander rushed by again, forcing her to duck low.

"Can all Riders fly now?" she muttered as she launched a stream of fire at her enemy. Alexander dodged, but with a wave of Caster's staff the tongue of flame curled into a long cylinder and chased after him, coiling with the man's movements like a snake. He twisted this way and that, but wherever he went the fire followed, keeping him from getting close to the powerful sorceress.

_This is better,_ she thought as she kept the man at a distance. With her other hand she summoned another serpentine flame, setting this upon Alexander as well. He dodged up and down, backwards and forwards to avoid the prehensile fire. The sight of the man dancing to her tune brought a smile to her face. She could almost see him sweating from each near miss, his skin burning as the fire came ever closer. It wouldn't be long now till she had him trapped, and then it would be her victory!

So caught up in this, she hardly noticed the piercing, metallic lance until it was too late.

She screamed as it slammed into her barriers, knocking her off balance and actually managing to cut through her defenses and slice into her skin. Her attack fizzled into nothing, her concentration broken from the surprise assault. She looked around, trying to piece together who or what had struck her, angry and frightened at this sudden attack. The answer came when she looked down.

There, floating beneath her, was Waver Velvet. Her eyes went wide at the sight. The man must have thrown himself from his Servant's horse when she'd been distracted from his attack!

All around him floated a great glob of metallic substance, supported in the air by the same forces he used to float above the ground. He looked up at her fiercely, challenging her murderous glare with a defiant one. It only made her rage grow even hotter, that another would-be magician of these weak times would embarrass her so! That this fool thought himself a worthy challenge for her!

He struck at her again, but she easily batted the metal constructs aside with barriers of pure force. Howling her fury, she vanished just as Alexander reached her, avoiding his slash entirely as she locked on to her new target. Waver had no time to react before Caster appeared before him, her hand on his chest.

"Pretty metal toys are dangerous, child," she said in a mockingly sweet voice. "Little boys shouldn't play with them."

Waver screamed as electricity tore through his body, making his muscles spasm as his shirt lit on fire. Bolts arched through his hair and between his fingers as the power ripped into him, and Volumen Hydragyrum rippled and twisted in response to its master's pain. Every second was one of piercing, burning torment that went on and on in defiance of objective time, replacing Waver's world with one of agony that refused to end. The magus screamed until he ran out of breath, and only then did Caster release him from his torment, letting him drop toward the earth as his Mystic Code fell apart around him.

"Waver!" Alexander yelled, racing toward his Master. He reached the smoking magus before he hit the ground, holding him gently before dismounting and easing him into the snow. He put a hand to the man's mouth, and let out a relieved sigh when he felt that he was still breathing.

"Clever," Caster muttered, taking only a moment to figure out how Waver had survived her assault. He had connected himself to his device of liquid metal, and then connected that into the earth. The construct was little more than shapeless metal now, but he'd been quick enough to ground himself with it and divert the lion's share of her attack.

"You made a mistake," Alexander said softly as he set his cloak over Waver. The monsters Caster had crafted earlier rushed toward him, but with one smooth motion he cut them down, bisecting all three of them with one attack. They fell squealing, trying vainly to hold themselves together. Alexander ignored them, mounting his steed and turning his full attention to Caster. "You do not touch the friends of the king."

With a great roar he took to the air again, riding the empty space toward Caster as she gathered her will into electrical death. Bolt after bolt she threw at Alexander, who either dodged or took the attack as it came. Ever onward he charged, however, never once deviating from his course.

"Ionian Heteroi!" he cried, and then they were gone. Vanished into thin air as Alexander drew Caster within the confines of his Reality Marble.

Meanwhile, Heracles and Achilles were still wrestling among the trees, their battle having already leveled a great deal of the landscape. They rolled around, each trying to gain the advantage. Heracles was larger, but Achilles managed to keep himself from being grabbed by constantly moving around and striking his spear into the still healing wound that Caster had inflicted earlier, tearing great gashes into the ruined skin.

With a animalistic grunt, Heracles kicked Achilles off, sending the man flying through with enough force to displace the air in a shrieking tempest. The Lancer screamed curses as he flew, which ended abruptly after he slammed into a rocky protrusion. It erupted around him, sending stone flying everywhere as he regained his bearings.

"Felt that one," he muttered, grinning fiercely as he looked to his opponent. Only, he wasn't there! Achilles blinked, searching for his foe. It was a combination of luck and his own martial instinct that made him look up.

He had but a second to move his shield into position as Heracles landed on him with all the force his considerable weight could bring to bear. Achilles grunted with effort, dropping to one knee, but he kept the shield up. With a roar, he pushed outward, forcing Heracles off before jumping back. He was panting with exertion, but despite the obvious strain he was grinning like a madman. He didn't even seem dismayed that the wound on Heracles' chest had finally healed now that the Berserker had had a few moments without a spear ramming into it.

"You," Achilles said with mirth in his voice. "Are everything your legend says you are! I think you might even be more fun than Hector was!"

"Is that all there is to you?" Heracles responded, his deep voice coming out ever more bestial as battle lust overtook him. He shifted his stance to the side, reducing the area of attack open to his enemy. "Battles and glory? If you are what became of heroes of my lands after my death, then I'm glad I didn't live to see it."

Achilles' grin died, and his lips drew back in a snarl set himself up for a charge.

"Are you mocking me? You went on great adventures and warred with horrible monsters! Surely the glory of battle enticed you to do so!"

"I fought for the thrill of combat, true. But more importantly, I fought for atonement and to protect the innocent. But all you are is a glory seeker. You are no true hero."

"Don't you judge me!" Achilles roared. "I fight for more than that!"

He rushed forward, intent on getting to grips with the larger Servant. But this time Heracles was ready. He blocked the Lancer's spear with his forearm, the weapon scraping uselessly across flesh stronger than steel. Heracles' counter attack as a quick jab with his other arm, which Achilles redirected with his shield before he stabbed at his enemy's throat. The giant Servant did not bother to block, simply taking the blow and letting Achilles overextend himself. Raising both hands over his head, he slammed them onto Achilles' shoulders and rammed the man into the ground, sending snow and dirt flying as the smaller Servant cratered the earth beneath him.

Achilles had but a moment to move before Heracles' foot stomped down, the force of the blow pulverizing even greater chunks of the landscape into powder. The Lancer rolled to his feet, dodging two quick jabs from Heracles before slamming his shield into the giant Servant's chin, quickly followed up by stabbing his spear into the man's side. Neither seemed to faze him, and Heracles responded with a haymaker that connected full on with Achilles' temple that sent him careening thirty feet before he could dig his heels and stop, tearing great trenches into the earth with his momentum.

Heracles observed as his enemy regained his balance and cracked his neck, apparently unharmed by attacks that could easily topple buildings and break the mightiest beasts. His eyes narrowed, and his shifted his stance to bring his arms closer to his body.

"It seems we can't harm each other!" Achilles called, some of his usual humor back in his voice. "Hah! What to do? It's no fun if neither of us can get hurt."

He pointed his spear at the swarthy Servant.

"Heracles! I name you my sworn enemy! Let us continue this contest a while longer!"

"I do not acknowledge your claim," Heracles rumbled, talking slowly and with care to contain the rage building up within him as the battle continued. "You're not worth the attention."

"Again you mock me!"

"It's just the truth," Heracles responded, shifting his stance.

Heracles charged, practically flying across the ground as he came close to Achilles. The Lancer was taken off guard by the swiftness of his enemy, and tried to raise his shield. But it was too little, too late.

"Nine Lives!"

Achilles screamed, his armor crumpling under the strength of nine overpowering blows. Each struck so fast they were almost instantaneous, giving the bronze armored Servant no time to react. His chest caved in while his arms broke, his legs shattered while his hands fractured to little pieces under the barrage of Heracles' mighty fists. A gigantic boom resounded as the air was pushed aside from the onslaught, the pressure wave knocking over the few remaining trees still standing. The Lancer fell to the ground, twitching as blood poured from his ruined body and stained the ground red.

"It's the truth," Heracles said again, lifting one leg up to cave the man's skull in and finish the fight. "Because I can hurt you, and because you fight for a meaningless cause."

How surprising it must have been, then, when Achilles kicked Heracles' single standing leg out from under him. The huge Servant's eyes went wide as the Lancer jumped on top of him, the rents in his armor and the deformations in his skin healing at a remarkable rate. He slammed one leg atop the larger Servant's lower jaw, forcing the man's mouth open.

"It's not meaningless," Achilles growled. "Because I will see Patroclus again. Hector's," he cried, leaning his arm back to cock his spear. "Doom!"

He launched the spear launched forward, slamming it into Heracles' mouth where it exploded in a great burst of prana. The landscape around it erupted with light and sound and force, and once more the earth was punished by the power unleashed by these two superhuman warriors. Heracles screamed as it ripped into him, tearing through his insides and burning down his throat into his stomach while at the same time piercing into his skull. He backhanded Achilles on reflex, tossing the man aside as he turned over onto his knees hacking and coughing up blood. He looked at his enemy with red eyes, all trace of control gone in the face of overwhelming pain. He roared as the madness overtook him, and charged to grapple with the Lancer once more.

Ilya observed with a sad expression as they fought. She stood at a distance, taking care not to get caught up in the fights of demigods as they casually unleashed powers greater than any mortal man. She gripped her shoulders in pain as her Servant descended into Mad Enhancement, the strain growing as Heracles pounded into Achilles with ever more ferocity, something the spear-wielding Servant responded to in kind. It wasn't unbearable, yet, but she knew as she was now the primary attribute of the Berserkers wasn't one she could maintain for long.

But even more than that, she knew that Heracles had wanted to battle in his right mind after so long locked in insanity. He wanted to show he wasn't just a crazed beast, but after so much time being exactly that he had slipped back into it in the face of unexpected agony. So she watched on, sad for her mad, loyal Servant.

Which might have helped explain why she did not notice the danger hovering just by her side.

Not that the homunculus would have seen him in any case, so complete was the subterfuge. There was not even the barest ripple in the air, not a single flake of snow disturbed. Hiding in plain sight, Assassin stood by Ilya's side as the girl slowly perished.

The needle embedded into his wrist, crafted from the strongest and purest wood, had already pierced the young woman near her heart, where even now it converted her blood into a poison derived of the deadly cocktail that made up his own bodily fluids. It was a quick and painless process, and within the next two minutes Ilya would be dead and never even realize how it happened. It was the pinnacle of assassination, one that left no chance for any counter-attack or flight.

Assassin smiled under his mask. It was not pleasure from the eventual death of the target that brought him joy, but rather the very act of performing the kill itself. This was why they had been feared so much, centuries ago, delivering silent death without any chance for fighting back. Every kill was a testament to their craft, the artistry of death.

Of all the targets, this girl was the best to strike first. Her control over the behemoth that battled in the distance was not one he or his allies could tolerate to continue. He could trade blow for blow with one of their strongest. But she would never get the chance to call him to her aid, to force him away and thus dispel the poison that coursed through her body. Just one more minute now…

He had but the barest moment to move before the bullet could take him in the back of the head, the sound of the shot alerting him an instant before it could hit. He jumped to the side and rolled across the snowy ground before looking up at his adversary. Assassin winced as his presence became known, and he heard the young woman gasp at his abrupt appearance even as he felt his poison's hold on her vanish.

But all that was secondary to the one who had forced him away from his target.

He was clad in a gray coat with gold buttons, the smoking revolver in his gloved hand not moving an inch away from Assassin's face. He had a broad brimmed hat across his head, showing only the barest hints of his silver hair. He sat atop a powerful looking, gray horse with a black mane who pawed at the ground with in eagerness to charge, his black fetlocks a stark contrast with the white snow.

"You!" Assassin snarled, pulling a number of knives into his hands. "Rider!"

Rider fired once more, forcing Assassin to dodge again. The shadowy Servant responded by throwing his knives, the blades traveling as fast as bullets. But Rider was just as fast, and five more shots from his revolver knocked the blades out of the air.

"I thought I smelled your stench, you bottom feeder," Rider growled in a soft drawl. But despite his quiet voice, it was obvious he was enraged. His beard trembled with barely contained wrath as he lined up another shot. "I knew you were filth, Assassin, but to kill a child? You truly have no limits."

"How are you alive!" Assassin yelled, looking for the best way to strike at this new arrival. "All the Servants were assembled already!"

"Then you miscounted. Break and run!"

The compulsion was strong, and Assassin felt the urge to flee. He'd fought this man before, back during their war so many years ago. Twice they had battled, and twice he had lost. Hatred boiled up within him, at the humiliation of his defeat! But it warred equally with fear, fear of this man's power and skill.

"Get him, Berserker!"

Assassin's eyes widened under his mask as the giant Servant who had been battling Achilles hundreds of feet away suddenly appeared right next to the young woman he'd been in the process of murdering. Fear won out over rage, and Assassin faded away quickly as Heracles' fist destroyed the ground upon which he had stood.

Ilya hugged herself fiercely, breathing hard and fast at how close Assassin had been to her. She was lucky to be alive! Composing herself, she turned toward the man who'd saved her. He took off his hat and waved to her, bowing his head politely before racing off. Ilya had only a moment to stare before she used another Command Seal to keep Heracles from chasing after him. She needn't have bothered, though, for Achilles was running toward them and Heracles turned to fight him once again.

Away but a short distance, Saber was fuming as she battled with Diarmuid, batting aside another strike as she tried to move in for the kill. But again he backed away, and she didn't dare pursue him too far lest he target Shirou again. For his part, the young man was panting with exertion as he tried to keep up with her and the handsome Lancer. Avalon healed his wounds, but he was getting tired. And if his guard dropped for even a moment…

The thought was unthinkable, so she didn't ponder on it. Lancer launched himself forward, and Saber slammed his spear aside. Shirou tried to get in close, but a backhanded strike from Diarmuid drove him back. He blocked with his swords, digging his heels in to keep himself from falling over. Saber capitalized on this, going for a hard slash to Diarmuid's stomach. The man managed to turn out of the way, though, and brought his spear up in a thrust toward her eye.

Saber ducked just in time, the crimson spear taking a few of her hairs, and responded with a thrust toward Diarmuid's throat. He ducked as well, and in the course of a few brief seconds they traded a dizzying array of blows that exceeded mortal perception. Dust devils rose around them from the force of their strikes, sending snow high into the air as they fought. Shirou could barely follow their attacks, the reinforcement in his eyes the only thing that allowed him even the slightest chance of seeing their flashing blades.

He dove into the fray, doing his best to aid Saber. He struck across with Kanshou while slamming down overhead with Bakuya, trying to catch Diarmuid while he was backing away from Saber's blade. But the Servant blocked both with a quick spin of his weapon, grinning at how close the young man had come.

But before he could react, Saber had charged him with a sudden burst of Prana, covering the space between them in an instant and slamming her sword into his chest. He barely moved Gae Dearg in time, preventing Saber from chopping him in half. He flew through the air, landing gracefully on his feet some distance away. Saber, for her part, moved back closer to Shirou.

"Diarmuid!" Saber called. "Cease these dishonorable tricks! You are better than this!"

"You," he growled. "Have absolutely no right to speak to me of honor. Not after what your Master did to me."

"Diarmuid, please! It doesn't need to be this way!"

"Of course it does," he responded as he set his spear into position. "Die, Saber, so that I can fix my fate."

He set his heels to lunge again, looking at Saber though his true target was the young man to her right. If she was willing to limit herself to protect him, then Diarmuid would exploit that to its fullest. Anything to win and move one step closer to denying the cruel destiny he had been cursed with.

Unfortunately for him, however, his attack was not to be.

"Hyah!" came a cry from behind as the gray clad Rider slashed at Diarmuid, which he just barely managed to duck. The blade still cut into his back, however, and he cursed under his breath as he moved to get some distance between him and this new enemy.

Shirou blinked, taken aback by this new development as the horse-riding Servant tore into Diarmuid, forcing the Lancer further and further away. Saber looked equally flabbergasted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She tightened her grip on her sword, ready incase this was some trick. A slight noise behind her caught her attention, and she turned, sword ready.

"Well now," an old man said as he observed the swirling air surrounding the sword point directed under his chin. He wore a long coat over a white suit, with a small brimmed hat atop his head. "That's some greeting, pretty lady."

"Who are you?" she demanded. Shirou shifted his stance, ready to move should this man cause trouble.

"You may call me Katsuo," he said as he raised his arms in submission, consequently showing off the Command Seals embedded into his right hand. "I know this looks suspicious, but I assure you we're here to help."

"We? So that's your Servant then?" Shirou asked, relaxing just the slightest bit.

"Indeed. Servant Rider. Or, as I like to call him, Robert."

"You're giving us his name?" Saber asked confused, though her sword never wavered.

"Think of it as an olive branch. Now let's just watch Robert work a bit. He'll be finished soon, I believe."

"You don't want us to help him?"

"I think he'll be all right."

Indeed, the man was performing admirably against the Lancer, moving forward and slashing constantly with his saber. The horse was agile, but more than that he was fast! Diarmuid had to twist and dodge to keep his skin clear of Robert's biting blade. He struck back, of course, aiming at both the man and his steed. But the horse seemed almost as nimble as himself, reacting to her rider's commands almost instantly, and combined with the man's swordplay the Lancer couldn't get a clean hit while the Rider continued to keep him off balance.

His frustration rising, Diarmuid moved under a slash before jamming his spear into the ground, using it to vault himself high into the air and away from his enemy. He landed gently, balancing and readying himself for renewed combat. Robert, however, simply tipped his hat and settled into his saddle.

"You're a fast one," he said, keeping his gaze on both Lancer's eyes and his spear. "Not many can dance around a man on horseback, but you did it like you've been doing it your whole life."

"Who are you?" Diarmuid demanded, ignoring the man's compliment. "You're interfering with my fight! Why?"

"Indeed I am. The young woman over there could almost assuredly end you even while you target her Master, given enough time. It was a good strategy you were using, but I'm afraid she's just too much for you."

"You haven't answered my question."

"There's important business to be done," Robert said as he pulled out his revolver. "I'm just here to speed things up a little."

He crossed gun and sword over his head, both weapons glowing brightly. Diarmuid had to shield his eyes a little from the glow, but he could hear his enemy clearly over the blinding light.

"The General's Armaments!"

The light erupted from the weapons, striking Lancer dead on. It also covered Robert, making them both shine as the lights connected with each other. Diarmuid scowled as it dimmed, unsure of what had happened and annoyed at his ignorance.

"What did you do?"

"I have set the stage for our duel," the Rider said as he sheathed his sword. "You and I shall have a contest of range, your spear against my revolver. Whoever can strike the other first in the draw shall be the winner. The terms of surrender are thus. If you submit to me, you must tell me the name and location of your master. Should I submit, you may take my life without any further protest."

"And why should I agree to this? I won't play your games!"

"It's hardly a game," Robert responded. "And should you refuse to participate, there will be consequences. Fatal ones. You and I are locked in a battle just between the two of us now, our contest within the field I have set. To run from the duel means your life is forfeit."

Diarmuid grinned, hefting his weapon. "Then I'll simply break your field."

"By all means, go ahead. It would save me the trouble of killing you."

"What?"

"The field is set upon your skin, as it is set upon mine. There is no escape save surrender or death."

"Fine then," Diarmuid said softly, shifting his position and cocking his spear. "Let's get on with it."

They stood that way, almost a hundred feet apart, for quite some time. It was a strange thing on a battlefield, for warriors to simply stare at each other as the clock ticked by. Each man observed the other, shifting their grip on their weapons as they waited for the other to move.

The tension rose as the minutes passed. Saber, Shirou and Katsuo observed them both some distance away, the tension rising as the two combatants searched for the optimal time to strike. The snow began to pick up again, coming down harder as the duel dragged on. The quiet was deafening, but even more the stillness was maddening! When would they strike?

And then, suddenly, it began! Robert drew his pistol and fired as Diarmuid launched his spear. Bullet and lance flew through the air at blinding speeds, each careening toward their targets. Robert inhaled sharply as Gae Dearg slashed into his side, cutting bone and drawing blood. The strength that Diarmuid had thrown his weapon had been great enough to puncture steel, and it had easily torn through the cloth and flesh covering Robert's ribs. He slumped a little, the pain coming as a great burning in his chest.

But it was Lancer who cried out, clutching his bloody hand while snarling in frustration. It had been but a fraction of a second, but Robert had struck first, his bullet smashing into Diarmuid's hand just as he released his weapon! That last second interference had been all that kept his attack from reaching its true target, Robert's heart. The Lancer looked upon the Rider with hate in his eyes, his lips drawn back and tainting his handsome features with rage.

"Again!" Diarmuid called, summoning his weapon back to his side.

"Your hand is ruined," Robert called. "You can't possibly win. Surrender and accept the terms."

"Never," the Lancer roared. "I'll not be humiliated again!"

Diarmuid gripped his spear with broken fingers, and as he threw it six shots rang out in quick succession. Gae Dearg managed to strike once again, hitting Robert's arm and cutting into the muscle. But it was just a bit too late to stop the bullets of prana from piercing the Lancers arms, legs, chest and forehead. Diarmuid blinked and fell over, his blood pooling freely onto the snow.

"You've lost," Robert said as he dismounted, holding his wounds tightly to stem the blood. He walked gingerly, the pain of his injuries obviously telling on him. But where blood loss would have laid a regular man low, he simply soldiered through it as he stood near his enemy.

"I have," Diarmuid said, almost too soft for Robert to hear. "Once again I fall to this farce of a war. Does it satisfy you, to watch me break once again under the weight of fate?"

"I take no pleasure in your suffering."

"Heh. I could almost believe you," Diarmuid said with dark mirth as he began to disappear, his body no longer able to sustain his spiritual presence in the face of all the damage he had suffered. "But even still, you trample upon my wish. I will never forgive you for this, nor will I forgive those who have already wronged me. My blood will stain your dreams, and you will die painfully and alone! Remember that! Remember the curse of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne! Remember my rage!"

He cried his defiance loudly as he vanished, until all that was left were the lingering echoes upon ice-cold winds.

Caster felt Diarmuid's death as she returned from the Reality Marble, gasping and bleeding from numerous cuts and bruises. She wrenched out a spear that had been embedded in her stomach, closing the wound quickly with her magic. Alexander stood across from her, burned and bleeding but unbowed all the same. He stemmed the tide of blood pouring from his side with one hand, while the other held on firmly to his sword. Caster cursed under her breath as the Lancer's essence faded completely. Once again they had started strong, and once again the advantage had fled from them! This battle was lost!

"Retreat!" she called, drawing the attention of Achilles as the man deflected one of Heracles' mountain shattering blows. "Retreat if you value your life!"

Achilles frowned as he felt Caster flee, and frowned deeper when he noticed that he could no longer feel Diarmuid. It did seem the tide of this battle had turned, and that meant he'd no longer be able to enjoy this wonderful fight with the mad Heracles uninterrupted.

"So many distractions," he muttered as he vanished, Heracles' foot passing through empty air harmlessly. The Berserker bellowed in rage at the loss of his prey, but slowly began to regain himself now that the combat was finished. He blinked once, then twice as the red left his vision and his conscience mind regained control over his fury.

"Well," Katsuo said breathlessly to Shirou and Saber, clutching his chest tightly. He had begun breathing harder ever since his Servant started his duel with Diarmuid. Every one else was converging on them now that the battle was over, Ilya by Heracles side and Alexander carrying Waver in his arms. They looked at the old man quizzically, wondering who he was and what could be bothering him so. "That was a good show, right? That was…"

He cut off as he fell forward, crying out in pain and breathing rapidly. Shirou was at his side in an instant, checking the man's eyes and pulse. He dabbed away the sweat forming on the man's brow, a surprising thing in this cold weather, as he checked all the signs for what he feared was happening. Shirou's expression grew darker the more he examined him, and he looked at the others with alarm.

"We have to get this man to a hospital! He's having a heart attack!"


	6. Escalation

Fate/Once More

Escalation

"How could you not know Rider was alive!?" Assassin screamed at his Master, shaking with anger and shock at what had occurred just a few hours ago. One could even see the man's mouth from underneath his skull mask, so animated was his yelling.

Gilgamesh found the whole affair amusing, if in a crude way. Assassins were a detestable lot, cowardly sneaking around instead of approaching from the front as a true warrior should. But this one's reaction to this Rider was interesting, though. The Assassin he remembered from the Fourth War was a worm, true, but it had been a composed and professional one. This Assassin's actions were anything but, and the man was building himself up toward a truly impressive tantrum.

The Magus, however, was not amused with such things. He crossed his arms, scowling at the animated Servant. The man had come back with the others not a few minutes ago, and but he'd spent that entire time going on about what had to be done about this new opponent.

"You will be silent," he said softly, his tone dangerous. Assassin held back a retort, but from the way he gripped his hands it was obvious he was just a few seconds from exploding again. "I will educate you, if it will stop your inane outbursts. Since Rider did not appear as my Servant, I simply figured his resonance had been lost. But since he has materialized, that means his Master is still alive. I'd figured him dead after he disappeared so many years ago, but this was obviously not the case."

"Then we need to do something about this! Rider cannot be allowed to live!"

The Magus' eyes narrowed. "That sounded very much like a demand, Assassin. Form your next words carefully."

Assassin froze, his rage dying in the face of harsh reality. In his hate of the man who had humiliated him years ago he had overstepped himself. His current Master was quick to anger, and would punish affronts swiftly and brutally. If in his haste and anger he had truly offended the man, there was no doubt his life would become a living hell. Swiftly, he backed away from the Magus and bowed low.

"I apologize, Master. Please forgive this one's uncouth performance. I will restrain myself in the future."

The Magus studied him for a few moments, and Assassin sweated beneath his mask. But soon enough the Magus waved a hand and turned away. He walked toward the arch, heading toward the back rooms of the complex away from where the Servants gathered and rested between their battles.

"See that you do, Servant. I do not want a repeat of this display."

Assassin breathed out a sigh of relief as the Magus walked away, getting back to his feet once he was sure the man was out of sight. Inwardly he was still fuming, but now his hate was subdued. He had to control himself, take reign of his emotions. If he didn't, there was a good chance he'd find the rest of his days filled with nothing but overwhelming pain.

"How unsightly," Gilgamesh called from where he leaned upon one of the cavern's walls. He held a bottle of wine under his arm, one of the amenities the Magus had given to help insure he didn't go and cause trouble. But in truth he was bored, and the Assassin made for a moment's distraction. "From yells to begging within the same breath. Truly, you are a pitiable example of a Servant. What is it about this Rider that has you so disturbed, worm?"

Gilgamesh couldn't see the Assassin's eyes through the mask, but the man's posture told well enough how angry the black clad Servant was. He clenched his hands briefly, and then he relaxed. It was a drastic change, going from a tight readiness to a loose ease. It was almost as if the Servant had resigned himself to something. The sudden shift in demeanor made Gilgamesh blink.

"Rider is physically mediocre, aside from his speed on horseback," Assassin said calmly. "He endures, but many have weathered more than he. He's skilled, but certainly not the best. These are not the things that make him a threat."

"Don't speak riddles to me," Gilgamesh retorted. "They're not amusing and you are not clever. Just spit it out."

"The true threat of Rider is that he can change the battlefield to suit his purpose. If his opponent is stronger, he will bring him down to his level and overwhelm him by attacking where he is least protected."

Gilgamesh quirked an eye at that, but Assassin said no more. Already weary of the man's presence, the King of Heroes did not object when the masked man walked away. He poured himself another glass of wine and sipped from it, ruminating upon the bit of drama he'd witnessed.

Assassin, meanwhile, made his way further back into the area his Master had ordered they stay when they were not out in the field. The light was dimmer here, and the shadows in the corners more pronounced. That was how he preferred it, truthfully. Too many things were revealed in the light, but so much could be hidden and achieved from the darkness.

One patch of shadow broke off from the others and approached him, revealing another skull faced Servant. She stood shorter than him, and nodded her head in respect. He nodded back to her, showing courtesy between professionals and peers.

"Hassan Saidi," she said in the language of their homeland. "Forgive my prying, but I could not help but overhear your conversation with our Master and the arrogant Archer."

"There is nothing to forgive, Hassan Sayd. I was overcome with emotion, and allowed everyone to see my innermost thoughts. I have brought shame to the name of Hassan."

Sayd said nothing in response to that. It was truth, after all. An Assassin had to be calm and collected. To lose oneself in such strong emotion was not the way things were done. But she would not shame him further by bringing this up. He acknowledged it, and thus was chastised enough.

"This Rider. Is he truly as great a threat as you claim?"

"He is not to be underestimated. If he has the chance, he will drag you toward the light and lay all your secrets bare."

Sayd hissed under her breath. "You don't mean…"

Saidi nodded. "He has seen my true face, and disdained our holy order with impunity. He must be punished for this."

"Yes," Sayd said slowly. "He must."

They were silent for a time, neither moving as they rested within the darkness of the cavern. Water dripped slowly along the walls, creating a small echo that resounded faintly all around them. It almost sounded like a small river. The seconds ticked by as the drips went on, before finally Sayd spoke again.

"I will help you in this. The honor of the Hashshashin supersedes all else."

Saidi bowed to her. "You have my deepest thanks, Hassan Sayd."

"No thanks are necessary. We will watch this Rider, and when the time is right he will dishonor the name of Hashshashin no more."

o\O/o

The first thing he felt was the embrace of the soft cloth beneath his head, as well as the heavy blanket thrown over his chest. It made him rather warm, almost uncomfortably so. But what was surprising was the lack of pain. His brow furrowed in confusion as hazy memories slowly drifted back to him, of a sudden, piercing fire that had coursed through his chest.

The pain wasn't truly gone, but he was sure he should have been in agony right now. Instead all he felt was sore all over with a particularly strong ache in his chest, sending forth dull throbs with the beating of his heart. He fidgeted under the covers a bit, trying to get comfortable in heat just short of stifling. Failing that, he pushed the heavy blanket off and opened his eyes.

"Oh thank goodness," Shirou said with a relieved sigh as Katsuo blinked a little to focus his eyes. He was in a well furnished, if rustic, room with a large fireplace. The walls were aged wood, and the window outside showed that the day had come and gone, giving way to night. There were many people in the room, most of the chairs occupied and in general giving the impression that it was much smaller than it actually was. "We weren't sure you were going to make it."

"Make it? What…" Katsuo sat up quickly as he remembered what happened, eyes wide with shock. Robert was at his side in an instant, stopping his motion and easing him back onto the bed. "My heart! I had an attack!"

"You did," Waver said from a large, plush chair over in the corner of the room. He looked weathered and miserable, the signs of Caster's attack on obvious display. He was breathing shallowly, and his chest was shirtless but covered in bandages. Alexander was staying near him, sitting cross-legged on the floor while keeping a close eye on Katsuo and his Servant. "And it probably would have killed you if we hadn't had access to certain restorative items."

"And those are?"

"Something we'll keep to ourselves for now."

"Ah," Katsuo said with a small smile as Robert backed away, the Servant leaning on the wall next to the bed where he could keep an eye on everyone in the room. Each of them was tense to one degree or another, never taking their eyes off of them. Their suspicion was palpable. "You don't trust me."

"Of course not," Waver said before coughing a bit, something that made Alexander wince a little. "This is at least some semblance of a Holy Grail War. Trust is hard to come by."

"Well, I can understand that. I didn't trust anyone either, though things might have gone better overall if I had."

"Which leaves us with the question of what to do with you," Waver continued. "I've arranged a flight back to Japan two days from now, and whether you come with us or not depends heavily on whether we like your answers to our questions."

The threat didn't even need to be said, what with three Servants poised to strike should hostility become apparent. The air shifted a little as the tension grew, with Robert giving Waver a small frown. All Katsuo did was give the man a tired smile.

"So you are a participant of the Third Heaven's Feel, then?" Saber cut in, getting to the heart of the matter.

"I am."

"But you'd have to be almost one hundred years old by now," Shirou began, not sure where he was going with his statement. It was Waver, however, who answered the young man's unspoken question.

"There are several magicks out there that can extend one's life. Most are despicable, though some are more innocuous." His eyes narrowed, and he paused for a moment to take a deep breath. He winced as he did, his wounds paining him, but continued. "Your family's magecraft lends itself well to that, doesn't it Katsuo Matou?"

The old man let out a sigh of resignation, falling back completely onto the bed. He closed his eyes, knowing now the full reasoning behind the wariness of the assembled Masters and Servants.

"So you know, then?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out, considering the number of parasites you have in your body."

"Heh. They have their uses. They're the only reason I'm still around, after all."

"So there can be no doubt to your claim then," Saber said. "You truly were involved in the Third Heaven's Feel."

Katsuo grimaced and cracked an eye open.

"Oh yes, Robert and I were involved in that war. The Grail had to choose me, after all. Of five children, only my eldest brother and I had magic circuits. The Matou line was declining even then."

"Which brings up something else," Waver interrupted. "I've not heard of you, and I made sure to look into the Matou family after I killed Zouken."

Katsuo gave out a bitter laugh, which quickly developed into a fit of coughing. He leaned up and covered his mouth as the coughs gave way to a wet, hacking rasp. Robert was quick to hand him a towel to wipe his hands as Katsuo leaned back down.

"No offense meant, Lord El Melloi, but I very much doubt you managed to kill that old bastard. I'm more than certain he's involved with the return of the Grail. As or myself, Grandfather really didn't want anything to do with me after I ran away. I was likely stricken from the records."

Waver frowned, something that looked a fair bit more sinister considering how worn he was.

"I was very thorough after our battle. Believe me. It's more likely that our enemy is some rogue element within the Einzbern family operating without Jubstacheit's knowledge."

"We thought that too, which is why we came," Robert said softly, making his accent even more apparent. "We hoped to confront the Einzbern patriarch about it, see if he was responsible. But Katsuo is right. Zouken was always a sly one. You shouldn't be so quick to write off the possibility of his involvement."

"So you say, but how can we trust you?"

Katsuo and Robert turned to Ilya, who had been the one to speak. She stood near Shirou, though even while he sat her head only came just above his shoulder. She was frowning at them; her eyes were narrowed as she looked them over. The age behind her expression was not that of the young woman she resembled, and both Master and Servant were taken slightly aback by the intensity of it.

"You appear out of nowhere and include yourselves into the middle of a warzone. Why? You have to have some reason."

"We do have a reason," Katsuo said quickly. "We wanted to stop this war before it got out of hand. Which we appear to have failed rather spectacularly at, considering the state we found you all in."

"So you mean to tell us you have no desire for the Grail?" Saber asked, suspicion laced within every word.

Robert sighed, looking at Saber with tired eyes. He moved away from his Master and pulled up a small stool, the only chair unattended. He sat down and clasped his hands together, holding them before him as he contemplated the question.

"Would you like to know why I originally fought?" he asked suddenly. "In the Grail War, I mean."

Saber gave him a quizzical look, but nodded. Robert waited for just a second for anyone else to speak up, and continued when no one did.

"My full name is Robert Edward Lee, and I was a general in one of the bloodiest wars of the last two hundred years."

Waver's eyebrows shot up.

"You're the Confederate General of the American Civil War?"

"Surprised I'm a Heroic Spirit, I take it?" Robert went on, taking the interruption in stride. "Apparently my campaign was enough to immortalize me. But that is beside the point. What is far more relevant are the horrors that war produced."

He closed his eyes, shaking a little as memory assaulted him. He leaned forward a bit more, hands held over his head like he was praying.

"Over the course that one war, I saw more young men on both sides crippled and killed than I had seen in the entirety of my life previously. Good, strong men in the prime of their lives, cut down in a stupid conflict that should never have happened."

He looked up again; eyes filled with pain that bled into his features and made him look old, as old as his Master if not even more. It transcended agony of the flesh, a soul deep pain that dimmed the aura of quiet strength he had been exuding till now. Saber blinked, and some of her tenseness faded away. Shirou spared her a glance, wondering what she had seen in those eyes that had unsettled her so.

"Can you imagine what that's like? To hear these men, little more than boys, screaming on the killing fields as they bleed out through half a dozen holes or more? To have these children calling your name as the field surgeons come out? 'Please don't let the doc take my leg, General Lee! Please don't! I can walk again, I swear. I'll keep fighting, just don't let him take my leg!' Over and over again, never ending throughout all four years of that stupid war."

He slammed his hand on the nearby table, making everyone jump.

"It wasn't fair!" he shouted. "It wasn't fair that these young men were fighting and dying because old rich men decided they didn't like how other old rich men were involving themselves in their affairs. None of it was fair! So when I saw a chance to change this fate, to create a peaceful resolution to a history already set, I leaped for it."

"You're not giving us any real reason to believe you don't want the Grail," Saber said softly, though her voice was laced with steel. Her expression was set in a scowl, and her brow furrowed. The air around her picked up a little, and Shirou's eyes widened in surprise. Robert's words shook her, and he could see why. They were very close to what she had once wanted, back during their own war so many years ago. "You seem to be giving us a very powerful reason to believe you still desire a wish."

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Robert said, equally quiet. He slumped a little, the fire in him having gone out. "For a while, that was all the reason I needed, all I really cared about. But that changed as Heaven's Feel dragged on. I watched these Magi, users of strange and dangerous powers; tear into each other as they spurred their Servants to ever-greater heights of bloodshed and barbarity. Homes and lives meant nothing to them, and the more I was involved the more I became disgusted with them, with the ritual and with myself."

"There was so much death," Katsuo said, sounding very tired. "And not just of the Masters and Servants. People on the edges of the conflict, assistants or just bystanders, were dying as well. I don't know properly how many died before the War was over."

"So we decided we wanted no part of it," Robert continued. "No man should have the power to bend the world entirely to his wishes. Men are fallible and weak, with baser desires encroaching on even the noblest goals. No, I gave up the Grail. That kind of power is the providence of God and God alone, and humans should not reach for it."

There was silence as Robert finished, straightening himself in his seat. But even if his posture was strong, it was obvious that telling this had drained him. The grey in his hair and beard didn't seem quite as regal any more, and the black in it appeared less glossy than when he'd been riding his horse into battle. He seemed smaller, but at the same time more open than he had been. More human than the larger than life figure he'd cut while dueling Lancer.

If anything, he resembled his Master. Both of them simply oozed fatigue, a bone deep weariness that cut straight into the spirit more than it did the body.

Finally, though, someone spoke.

"We'll be leaving in two days," Waver said slowly. "I'm going to use that time to check in on some of the other Einzbern compounds. You're free to come with us."

"Thank you," Katsuo said, his Servant expressing gratitude as well.

"Don't thank us yet. If you're tired of war, I'm sorry to say that's right where you're going if you come with us."

"Some things never change," Robert said with a sad smile. "Fine, then. We go to war."

o\O/o

"Archer," Rin began as she took another bite of the meal in front of her. Sakura sat next to her, and Rider was on the other side of the table. Archer, meanwhile, stood next to the kitchen opening with a small smirk on his face. "Where did you learn how to cook?"

The meal was an impressive affair, made up of multiple dishes. The first course had been soup, the miso broth flavorful and mixing well with the small bits of tofu that floated within it. After that had been the meal proper. The main body was a noodle dish mixed with vegetables and chicken, while the side dishes were cooked strips of pork and beef that had been marinated in teriyaki sauce. Rice, both fried and regular, were set in bowls for everyone to enjoy as well. And, finally, there was a small plate of sashimi decked with little pieces of tuna, salmon and eel. It was, in short, a masterful dinner.

"It's just a skill I picked up. Not certain where. Everything's a little fuzzy."

"Yes," Rin said softly as she picked up another piece of pork. "So you've said."

"Won't Shirou be surprised that we've used up so much of his food?" Sakura asked, though she did not stop taking little bites of everything.

"Hey, we're watching over his place for him. I figure the kid can let us use the good stuff."

"And it is very good," Rider said as she helped herself to some beef and fried rice. "Such an odd skill to have picked up on your travels, Archer. I would have thought a wandering hero would have been more content with simply eating any old thing so long as it was food."

"And what makes you think I traveled?"

"Heroes always travel," she frowned for a second. "Proper heroes, anyway. And besides, those shoes were made for walking."

Archer glanced down at his feet, though his shoes were not materialized at that moment.

"Huh, I guess you're right. Maybe I wandered the earth a bit. Would only make sense, I suppose."

"You know," Rin said as she picked up a few pieces of sashimi. "I've been meaning to ask about that. I know that you said it was because of an improper summoning that you couldn't remember your past, but you've been summoned again here. There's nothing at all?"

"You said it yourself, Rin," Archer said as he sat himself down, setting up a bowl of fried rice for himself. "This is just a continuation of where I left off. I didn't know then, and I still don't know now. Might come back to me later, but who knows?"

"Yeah…" Rin said idly, tapping the table with her right hand as she popped some tuna into her mouth. Her command seals shifted a little with her skin, and Archer's eyes quirked toward them for the briefest of seconds. "I guess so."

"So," Sakura cut in, trying to move away from the awkward atmosphere Rin and Archer were creating. "Waver said he and the others would be coming back in two days, right?"

"Yes. Apparently they ran into some trouble, both with Jubstacheit and afterward, but it's all handled now. I guess we were wise to have such a strong force going out, considering the resistance they ran into."

"And the man they met?"

"Waver said he was handling it. But Sakura… He said the man was a Matou."

Sakura flinched a little at the name, drawing in on herself. Rin put a hand on her shoulder, giving her sister a supportive squeeze. The younger sibling smiled gratefully at her, pulling herself together.

"I see. I… We'll deal with that as it comes. Together."

"Together," Rin agreed.

"It does irk me a little, though," Rider said as she leaned away from her plate, attempting to shift the conversation. "That we've been left behind like this. I'm more used to running out head on, not waiting behind."

"I've got no problem with it," Archer said. "Patience has won more battles than even the strongest of sword arms. Once we're all back together we can decode the Einzebern's information and hopefully have a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"We're dealing with Servants," Rider shot back. "Simply sitting around isn't how you handle them. All it does is give them time to slip the noose around our necks."

"And what would you have us do, then? We know nothing about our mysterious mastermind. Charging out blindly is a fool's errand."

"I'm sick of just sitting around, is what I'm saying. We should be doing something!"

"Rider," Sakura said softly, and the purple haired Servant winced a little at the tone. She deflated and gave Sakura an apologetic look.

"All right, all right," Rider said. "No need for everyone to get all excited. I'm just a little on edge, is all."

"I know the feeling," Archer said. "Almost like there's a tenseness in the air? I've been getting the impression of something building up for little over a day now."

"Really?" Rin asked. "And when were you going to mention this?"

Archer shrugged. "It didn't seem important. Rider hasn't sensed any enemies, and I certainly haven't seen any Servants approaching."

"Yes, but you two are Servants," Sakura said. "Wouldn't your instincts have a better chance of catching something than a normal person's?"

"Probably," Archer said around a mouthful of rice. "But I figured we were just under surveillance. That'd be as good an explanation as any for why Rider and I have been so antsy. I already mentioned we probably were a few days ago."

"I remember," Rin said. "But are you sure that's all it is?"

"Pretty sure. Like I said, I haven't seen anyone and Rider hasn't sensed anyone. And you certainly haven't felt anyone trying to break into the bounded field. I figure they probably don't want to force a confrontation here on public ground just yet."

"Well, that would make sense after the assault in Germany," Rin said thoughtfully. "They overreached and lost one of their own, so they'll try to recover their strength before trying anything else. I figure we've got a few days before any other attacks."

Rider shot up suddenly, standing ramrod straight and looking toward the street beyond the walls of the Emiya house. She raised a hand to silence the startled exclamations coming from the others in the room, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment Archer also stood up, looking where she did with a similar expression.

"Rin, we've got trouble."

"Is it a Ser-"

Rin was cut off as a horrific cry rang from outside, like a beast screaming through a metal tube. It shook the walls with the force of it, actually sending a few small objects on the kitchen counter toppling to the floor. Rin and Sakura screamed and put their hands over their ears, trying in vain to block off that monstrous sound, while all Rider and Archer did was grimace as the otherworldly shriek tapered off.

Archer and Rider were out the door in an instant, weapons ready as they plunged into the street. Thunder cracked overhead, and a light drizzle came down across the town. A heavy fog covered everything, layering the street and the houses like a thick blanket. It was only through reinforcement that Rin and Sakura could actually see any great distance at all into the misty wall.

And there, standing tall and fearsome was Berserker. He held his wicked looking spear with one hand, the other resting at his side and clawing at nothing. Shadows crawled around his pitch black armor, surrounding him in what appeared to be ebony flames that defied the falling rain. He growled and panted through his helmet, the sound resembling a beast far more than it did a man. At the sight of the two Servants he screeched again, leaping into the air.

Rin and Sakura came outside just in time to watch their Servants dodge the armored madman, his spear plunging deeply into the ground. Rider responded first, her chained spikes shooting out unerringly at her target. Berserker quickly wrenched his spear out of the ground and deflected the attack. He moved in on her in an instant, his spear cocked to run her through!

Only for him to duck as Archer struck from behind, his swords passing through nothing but air. Berserker countered by ramming the butt of his spear into Archer's midsection, taking him off his feet and sending him flying down the street. Rider thrust her spike toward the mad Servant's helmet, aiming right where she could vaguely feel the visor to be. Berserker simply moved away, leaning back while she overextended. His gauntleted fist took her straight in the solar plexus, actually forcing her off the ground and into the air! She coughed up blood, dizzy from the sudden blow, but managed to land on her feet away from the shadowy servant.

Archer and Rider were now on both sides of the man, circling him warily while he simply stood there. He twitched occasionally, his spear jerking slightly and his hands continuing to claw at the air.

Yelling a battle cry, Archer threw Kanshou and Bakuya at Berserker, who jumped over one and knocked the other aside. But before he could land Rider was there, her chain wrapped around his waist and launching him down the street and further away from Rin and Sakura. She ran after him, Archer right behind her, and just barely managed to duck as Berserker swung his spear at her. Archer killed his momentum just in time to stop himself from getting run through, and in that instant summoned his iconic blades. He twisted and flanked the armored Servant, Rider coming up at the front with both spikes aimed for the man's neck.

What happened next was something neither Rin nor Sakura could properly conceive. One moment it appeared they had Berserker dead to rights, strikes coming from the front and the side, and the next the two of them were sent flying as the crazed Servant _moved._ That was the only way to describe it. He did something with his spear, angling it with such speed and precision that it defied belief, and both Rider and Archer were knocked aside.

They hit the ground hard, landing back toward the entrance of the Emiya household almost fifty feet away. The two were on their feet in an instant, but it was obvious that they were wearing thin even from just this short minute of battle. Archer's armor was cracked and he was bleeding from a deep cut to his arm and temple. Rider was favoring her right leg, and she was hunched over a little. Rin and Sakura gaped from their spot by the door. Had Berserker truly managed to wound them that much in so little time?

"Distract him for five seconds," Archer said as Berserker walked toward them.

"You don't ask for much, do you?"

"We're going to get ourselves killed simply charging him head on," Archer shot back. "Overwhelming force is our only option. Keep his attention for five seconds and I might be able to take him out."

"Fine then, but you better know what you're doing."

Rider took off Breaker Gorgon, revealing beautiful eyes with unnatural square pupils that looked like works of art. She was stunning normally, but with her visor off she was easily one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. Not that anyone but Berserker could appreciate once she'd removed her covering, and by his very nature it was lost on him anyway.

The pressure surrounding the battlefield was increased by tenfold. Even those not locked by her gaze could feel it, like they were on the periphery of a storm. The mad Servant stumbled under the weight of it, but slowly kept going. Cursing under her breath, Rider wrapped her chains around her fists and gripped her spikes tight, charging forward. Her hair seemed to twirl behind her like a living thing as she did, undulating like snakes.

Her fist shot out like a rocket, displacing the air with the force of it and blowing the fog away in all directions where she and Berserker stood. But Berserker managed to get his spear in the way, stopping her attack. Twirling, she leapt up and kicked his gauntleted hand, knocking the spear aside before using both gravity and her own monstrous strength to slam her other hand into the man, which he blocked by crossing his arms. The strength behind it pushed him back, but Rider didn't let up. She stayed with him, muscles bulging as she went into a dizzying array of punches and kicked. Metal clanged on metal as the Servants exchanged blows, gauntleted hands meeting chain wrapped fists with such intensity that it resembled bullet fire.

"I am the bone of my sword," Archer said, arm outstretched. Rin perked up at the sound of it, and left the relative safety of the Emiya gateway to see clearly just what exactly was going on.

_Is that a chant?_ she thought as she observed her Servant. _What is he doing?_

"Steel is my body, and fire is my blood."

Archer knew this was a long shot, that he was taking a terrible risk. Saber, Waver and Alexander had their suspicions about this Servant, suspicions they had been all too willing to share with the rest of the group. If they were right, then this Servant was his natural enemy. But that was only if they were right, and even if they were he didn't have much choice at this point. If they could just keep him distracted, then maybe he could hit Berserker hard and fast enough to finish him off before their fears were proven true.

Rider and Berserker were a blur as they pummeled each other, punches and kicks going so fast that the sound of them mixed with the thunder that roared above them as the two warriors clashed with each other. Rider was bruised and bleeding from hits that could easily topple the near by walls of the Emiya compound, and Berserker's armor was dented and cracked all over. But neither fell, Berserker due to sheer maddened rage and Rider because of the monstrous strength that even now was changing her body from a Servant to a creature of nightmare. Her skin had already transformed into a strange, scaled amalgamation of flesh and scales, bits of it coming off to heal the wounds that mounted as she brawled with Berserker.

Shockwaves blowing away the mist and rain, Rider slammed her fist into Berserker's face. His head snapped back, but with one clawed hand he reached for the Emiya house's wall and stopped himself from being taken off his feet, tearing a deep groove in its stonework. Roaring, he grabbed Rider's fist and squeezed, claws drawing blood. Hissing with pain, Rider punched with her other fist, which was caught by Berserker's other hand.

Berserker screamed again and slammed his head onto Rider's, forcing her head down. Growling, Rider retaliated with her own head butt, creating another dent in the growing collection atop the Berserker's shadowy armor. Their muscles strained against each other, deadlocked as they tried desperately to take the other off balance. Even with her eyes weakening him, even with her drawing on her monstrous strength as far as she dared, she could not overcome her enemy. No matter how much punishment he took, Berserker simply kept on going!

Rider winced as she felt her canines turn into serpentine fangs, the side effects of what she was doing becoming even more apparent. She couldn't pull on it any more, not and keep her human mind. But her endurance was running out, and even while battered Berserker wasn't showing any signs of slowing down! And then she noticed the strange, evil looking red lines that seemed to bleed from Berserker's hands and into her chains.

"So as I pray, Unlimited Blade Works!"

The rain vanished as the world was engulfed in fire, starting from Archer's position but quickly spreading out. Wherever it touched, the world changed. A rainy, misty night transformed into a smog filled wasteland with giant gears turning in the distance blocking a sun that seemed to be forever setting. And it was absolutely covered in swords. Large swords and small swords, a few even so large that they looked like they could cleave a building in two! They spanned to the horizon, and Rin gasped at the sight of it.

"A Reality Marble? How?"

Her thoughts were interrupted as Rider slammed her knee into Berserker's side, drawing his attention away just enough to disengage from her opponent. Berserker roared in both pain and rage, chasing after her. But before he could make it very far, every sword that rested near him rose into the air and slammed into him like a torrent of steel.

The dusty landscape was kicked up from the onslaught, obscuring the Berserker within its depths. But his scream could be heard plainly, pain saturating every fiber of it. It trailed on for a time before finally cutting off as the last few blades shot into the dust cloud, an ominous silence coming on as sharply as the edge of a knife. Archer allowed himself a small smile at the sound.

_Looks like my gamble paid off._

Archer's vanished as the swords flew into his gut, slicing straight through his armor and coming out his back.

"Archer!" Rin shrieked, but it was swallowed by Berserker's cry as the dust finally settled. He was pierced everywhere, his armor broken all across his chest and limbs, but he still stood in rebellion to his wounds. He pulled out two swords embedded in his legs, angry veins of red going through them before he threw them toward the stumbling Archer. He was taken off his feet as they slammed into his shoulders, and as he fell the Reality Marble shattered around them.

Rin gasped and fell to her knees as the shards of Archer's soul collapsed and Berserker began his slow march forward. She clutched her skull as the pressure mounted, the command seals embedded in her right hand blazing with light and blazing with pain.

_**My body… is made out of swords.**_

Words and images flashed through Rin's mind as Archer finally hit the ground, his blood coming out in spurts. She saw a fire so great that she could almost feel herself burning, people dying in agony and reaching out for salvation and death, anything to ease their suffering. And through it all a single boy walked, his eyes dead as he moved through hell on earth.

_**Iron is my blood… and glass is my heart.**_

The words… they were Archer's words. They were the words of his chant. But they were different somehow, closer to the actual meaning of his magic. She saw the boy living with an older man, the man who had saved him, and growing up desiring to do justice. She saw him, without any intention, entering into a secret war. He was so unsure of himself, wandering into something he did not truly understand. But he had allies in this fight, one of which she could see was herself. This boy was… Shirou?

_**I have overcome countless battlefields undefeated… Not once have I retreated, nor once have I been understood.**_

He won the war, but it was not his last. He grew older. He grew stronger. He battled mages and dead apostles. He fought criminals and tyrants. In every shape and form a never-ending tide of foes were confronted. Everywhere across the world he fought, defending those who could not defend themselves. And when he found himself unable to save a small group of people, when his own strength was not enough, he made a deal with the world for power.

_**Always alone on the hill of swords… intoxicated with victory.**_

He saved them. He saved them all and he continued his work. He ground himself down to the bone, fighting ever onward toward a goal that was impossible to achieve, forever marching toward that ever-distant utopia. His skin and hair changed color, polluted by his magic, and he suffered innumerable wounds. He was beaten and burned, bled to the raw muscle as he pushed onward. But in the end he was destroyed by the very people he had fought to save, meeting his end on a hill surrounded by countless swords. Rin had seen this part before, in her dreams so long ago. She had seen this man smile even as he was put to death. And now she saw why he had been so happy, sure that after his life ended he would continue to fight for his ideal.

_**Thus, this life has no meaning.**_

But he had been wrong, so very wrong. The concept of justice was a human one, and the world had no use for anything other than survival. To save humanity from itself he was forced to kill and kill, hundreds of thousands dying at the end of his swords. Innocent and guilty alike were torn apart in a storm of steel and gore, bodies ripped asunder by the power he had exchanged his freedom for. His ideals became meaningless, and in the end he could not save a single soul as he slaughtered uncountable people while under the control of the world.

_**This body was surely… **_

And then, finally, standing over the bodies of his victims, he threw down his weapons. He looked at his hands, so large and strong, hands that had built so much, and yet stolen the lives of so many. And with those blood-soaked hands he clutched at his face, and a cry of ultimate despair ripped through from throat. It echoed far and wide, a deep shrill that saturated the air, the sound of a man who had been completely and utterly broken by the harsh, cold truth of reality.

_**Made out of blades.**_

Rin could hear another person screaming alongside her sad, twisted Servant. It took her a second to realize it came from her own throat.

Tears mingled with the rain, and Rin could vaguely hear Sakura screaming her name as the visions and words finally faded. She looked up and saw Berserker there, standing over her. He was a wreck, his armor barely functional and covered with holes. His blood pooled freely from his wounds, and growling as he did he looked so much like a monster more than he did a man. He reached out toward her with one clawed gauntlet.

"Please," she whispered, her voice weak. A far cry from her normal, energetic self. She looked up at him, all her fire burned out. "Please stop."

Berserker flinched, recoiling as if burned. He took a step back, and then jumped as three swords embedded themselves where he had been standing but a second ago.

"Don't you touch her," Archer growled, stumbling to his feet. His eyes burned with defiance, the intensity of it shining through the agony that had replaced his reality. "Don't you ever touch her."

Berserker flinched again, clutching his head with one hand as he looked at Archer. He reached for the man, not with a grasping claw but with a reaching hand. He gave a strangled cry, something almost resembling human speech. It was distorted, though, and no matter how he tried it came out like an animal's screech.

It cut off as Rider struck him square across the face, sending him flying. He landed in a crouch, and all humanity faded from his voice. He tried to stand, but stumbled as the shadows at his feet came up to grasp at his legs. They slipped into the holes in his armor, sending out fresh gouts of blood as it bit into him. Berserker flailed wildly, striking at the shadows, revealing them to be insects covered in darkness. And with one final roar, Berserker jumped back into the mist, fading into golden light as he fled.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief as she released her power, lifting Rin up as the pain faded from behind her eyes. It was always a struggle to use that properly, to keep it controlled. And she hated it, hated so much how dirty it made her feel. But it was all that she had that would be of any good in their fight, so it was what she would use.

"Sister," she said softly, trying to snap Rin out of her fugue. She was still crying, staring blankly where Berserker had gone. "Sister, please wake up! Archer's hurt!"

"Archer?' Rin said softly, and light returned to her eyes. "Archer!"

"Right here," he said weakly, taking a stumbling step toward her. He was grinning, or at least trying to. His torso was a mass of holes, his armor ruined utterly. And his shoulders were so torn they barely seemed able to keep his arms attached. "No need to shou-"

He fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Rin shrieked and ran over, trying to lift the larger man. Rider was there in an instant, lifting Archer over her shoulder and following Sakura toward the house. Rin trailed after them, giving as much prana as she could through her connection with her Servant to keep him alive. But he was so hurt! It didn't seem like anything she gave was doing any good!

"Archer," she said as they took him into the house. "Archer, please stay alive!"

And above them, hiding in the rafters, they never noticed the skull-faced man as he watched them attend to the red-garbed Servant. He was silent, invisible here as he had been when he'd penetrated the bounded field during the now concluded battle. He fiddled idly with a knife, considering.

A hundred voices in his head, from all the personalities and bodies he was connected to, urged him to wait. Rider was still fit, and if he struck now she would destroy him before he could accomplish anything of real value. So he would be still, quiet. He would observe them, stay as close to the group as if he were a part of the house itself. He would wait for all of them to gather together, and he would carry their weaknesses all the way back to his multitude of bodies. He would locate their secrets and pry them loose from their protections. What they wished hidden, he would find.

And after this task was complete?

Then he would see about wetting his knives.


	7. Meetings and Regrets

Fate/Once More

Meetings and Regrets

The train ride back to Fuyuki from the airport was not a momentous one, something that Shirou was very grateful for. After everything that had happened in Germany, as well as what they heard from Rin and Sakura before they'd gotten on the plane, he'd half expected to get into a fight with Servants on top of the high-speed vehicle. Thankfully, this was not the case. He didn't want to imagine the kind of havoc that would be unleashed on the surrounding countryside from such a thing, not to mention on the train itself. It would have been a disaster!

Pushing that horrible thought aside, Shirou turned his attention to his companions. He was sitting between Saber and Ilya, the smaller girl resting on his side as she took a nap. The plane ride was not a short one, and Ilya hadn't been able to keep herself awake near the end of it. She was continuing that nap now. Berserker was standing in the cabin in spiritual form, the Servant far too large and obvious to be out in public as they travelled.

Ilya wasn't the only one sleeping. Katsuo Matou, the old man they'd allied with in Germany, was also asleep in the chair on the other lane. In his case it was because of his age, getting as much rest as he could to conserve his energy. He wasn't used to handling the prana requirements of a Servant after so many years, and the strain it put on his body was significant. He'd almost died when his Servant Rider, Robert E. Lee, had gone full out in battle. Shirou only hoped the old man wouldn't push himself too far.

"You're worried, Shirou," Saber said from beside him. He looked at her, careful not to disturb Ilya. "Is everything all right?"

Shirou gave her an embarrassed look. "Sorry to bother you. I was just a little concerned for Katsuo. He's been so tired the last few days."

"My Master is resting peacefully, Mr. Emiya," Robert said softly from where he sat beside his sleeping master. He was dressed in a western style grey suit and pants. The cut of the suit was old, hailing back to Robert's time, but serviceable. He was thumbing through a book, the title of which was in English. "That marvelous artifact you have graciously lent to him has kept Katsuo at peak health. Better than peak health, if I am completely honest. It is stunning just how much stronger he is now. Despite his family magic, he has been having heart troubles for several years." He grimaced slightly. "Not that he informed me of such before we went out to battle."

"It's no trouble," Shirou said. "And it's Saber you should be thanking. Avalon is hers, after all. I just borrow it every now and then."

"Do not be silly, Shirou," Saber responded. "You held Avalon within you for ten years. It's as much a part of you as it ever was a part of me."

Shirou couldn't help but smile at those words. Avalon had brought them together, had been the basis of their connection through the Holy Grail War. It was Saber's true Noble Phantasm, the perfect defense against all attacks. To say it was his as much as hers made him feel warm inside. She apparently felt the same way, because she was smiling at him too. He looked at her beautiful green eyes, their fierce expression softening as she looked into his.

"My, oh my," a deep voice cut in, humor lacing every word. "Don't you two look cute together?"

Saber blushed furiously and glared at Alexander, who was grinning at the both of them from the seat ahead. Shirou, for his part, simply blushed. He and Saber had been staring at each other for almost a minute there and he hadn't noticed a thing!

"And do you have something to say about that, King of Conquerors?" Saber asked, her voice like ice. Alexander simply grinned even more.

"Not at all," he said with a laugh, keeping himself restrained only out of courtesy for the sleeping occupants within their cabin. "It was just an observation. I've not seen you looking so relaxed before, King of Knights. I thought it a nice change."

Saber's face went redder, though out of embarrassment or anger Shirou couldn't tell. "You…"

"Now now," Alexander said as he raised his hands in surrender. Waver sighed a little from where he sat beside the large Servant, but made no move to get involved. "There's no need to raise a fuss. I'm just trying to make a bit of small talk. You know, to pass the time. We've got another hour until we get to Fuyuki, after all."

"That hour might be better spent not prying into the affairs or other people," Robert replied, still reading his book. Alexander turned to him and quirked an eyebrow in question. "It's simply bad manners."

"Then let's talk about you, then! I hear you are a great general. I'd love to speak with you about your exploits."

"I believe you already know my feelings on what could be considered my greatest campaign."

"Yes, yes. I understand that. But surely you would not be averse to talking about some of your other experiences? I just want to know a little bit more about you. You've been so quiet this trip."

"I've not had much to talk about, in truth. And I've been trying to catch up on my reading. There is a wealth of good literature in this time period, and with such fascinating subjects."

"Really?" Alexander asked. "Might I see what you're reading?"

Robert turned the book over for him to see.

"Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" Alexander said with confusion. He frowned a little. "What on earth is that?"

"A mystery novel set in a hypothetical future," Robert responded, returning to the book. "It also details on the nature of humanity when dealing with things that aren't human, but still have hopes and dreams. It's a very gripping story."

"Wait," Alexander said, looking at the cover again. "Is this that science fiction stuff?"

"You saw some books like that in that bookstore we went to ages ago," Waver said, turning toward the conversation. He still looked beaten and weary from his confrontation with Caster, but a few days of rest and some quick healing magic had done wonders for him. He certainly didn't seem so miserable any more, at least. "Before you made me spend all my money on video games."

"I remember. I've been meaning to look into that, actually! I want to see if there are any new strategy war games out recently."

"There are," Waver responded. "I'll show you some of the latest brands when we get back to Emiya's house. I think you'll be pleased. But I have to say I'm a little surprised at you, Robert."

"Oh?"

Waver shrugged. "I just didn't figure you to be interested in something like that."

"The world was remarkably different from the one I left when I returned for my Grail War," Robert said, putting the book aside to properly talk with the older magician. "There were fantastic new technologies that made people's lives much easier. And now there are even more! I find the impact of its progression very intriguing, and there's so much interesting literature detailing that very subject. There wasn't a great deal of that back in my time, aside from what Verne was writing, and that one excellent work from Mrs. Shelley. I appear to have died before the genre truly got started."

"Most mages aren't very interested in technology," Waver said. "Or if they are, it's only in how it's a threat to the mysteries of the world. I'm a bit of an odd one in that respect, with how I enjoy playing video games."

"Is that so?" Alexander asked. "I remember you didn't like those at all back in the day! What changed your mind?"

"A certain king," Waver began. He gave Alexander a small grin, curling just at the edges of his mouth. "With a penchant for being loud. But he was a good person, so I thought I'd try out something he enjoyed to honor him."

Alexander's smile split his face in two. He laughed uproariously and slapped Waver on the shoulder. Not as hard as he normally would, for he was taking note of the man's lingering injuries, but enough to jostle the mage around a little. Waver, for his part, grinned even more.

The noise woke up Ilya, who grumbled a bit at being roused so rudely. Alexander made some quick apologies, which set the young woman into a pout instead of continuing to harangue him. Shirou put an arm around her shoulder, and she smiled up at him. Saber, for her part, just sighed at the King of Conquerors antics, remembering everything he'd done in the past. He'd been remarkably restrained so far, as if he was trying his best to simply observe. Observing what, she did not know. But she was certain he'd make his intent clear eventually. He was too forthright a person to simply stand aside for any great length of time.

Katsuo awoke also, groaning a little and stretching his limbs. They gave little popping sounds, but he didn't seem to be in much pain. He yawned and scratched his head, blinking a little to clear his eyes.

"Are you feeling well, my friend?"

Katsuo turned to Robert and gave a mock grimace. "You don't need to keep checking up on me, Robert. I'm fine, really. Best I've felt in years."

"Perhaps in a few days," Robert said back. "When I can be sure you're not going to have another heart attack. Until then, I think you'll just have to put up with me."

Katsuo sighed. "I'm not going to live that one down, am I?"

"I'm not entirely pleased with how you hid how much weaker you are now just to ensure I would fight at my full ability," Robert said evenly. "So I guess it will be a long time till you do."

Katsuo flinched a little under that stare. He turned away, not wanting to look his friend in the eyes. But he was forced to turn back after Robert rested a hand on his shoulder. The Servant's expression was less sharp now, giving the old man a kind expression.

"You don't need to hide anything from me, my friend. I'll not think you weak because of your age. We are brothers in battle once more, and that means we cannot keep secrets from each other."

"You should keep Avalon within you for the next few days," Waver said. "Just to ensure there is no trouble. I don't want to have to take you to a hospital if you have another attack. When we reach Emiya's house I want to make as few outside excursions as possible while Rin and I work our way through the Einzbern's information on the Third War."

"Was there anything in the other Einzbern compounds when you visited them?" Shirou asked. "You've been close lipped on everything you discovered so far."

"Because I'm not very certain of anything at this point," Waver admitted. "False information can be even worse than no information at all."

"But you think you've found something," Ilya said. She still looked sleepy, but right now her expression was of a grown woman and not the teenager she appeared to be. "Your face says as much. Surely you can tell us something. We've been too long left in the dark on all this, and I do not like it."

"All I'll say for now is that I'm very interested in this Emil von Einzbern," Waver said. "He has made many visits to the various Einzbern holdings in the last two decades. No one could tell me what exactly he was doing aside from looking over old documents, but I find myself suspicious of him."

"And what is your basis for these suspicions?" Ilya asked.

"Nothing much, as of yet," Waver responded. "Call it a hunch."

The signs above the doors to the cars flashed that they were approaching the Fuyuki exit, and a little electronic voice from the speakers said the same. Shirou looked outside toward familiar sights, glad that he was home and yet unnerved by the uncertainty of the days to come. They didn't have much to go on aside from Waver's suspicions, which looked like they would be either confirmed or denied by what they found within the gem Jubstacheit had given them.

Saber's hand came over his, banishing those thoughts away. He looked at her and smiled, and she gave him a small smile back. And he was sure that whatever happened they would be able to handle it. Together, there was nothing they could not do.

o\O/o

Rin looked at her watch, noting the time, before she glanced at Sakura, who was looking at her with concern. Her sister had been fretting over her ever since she'd broken down during Berserker's attack, making sure to keep an eye on her. Rin had to admit that she was a mess. She had hardly slept since the attack, and she's drained herself providing Archer with enough Prana to stave off death. He'd come terribly close to it when Berserker impaled him with his own weapons.

The black knight had been so strong! She'd thought Heracles had been a terror during the war, but there was just something about this raging Servant that frightened her. He'd taken on two Servants at once and kept up with them, almost breaking both of them. He'd only being driven off when it was obvious he would be destroyed.

Remembering the event made her seethe. She'd just frozen up and fell to pieces right in the middle of savage combat! It was inexcusable! She was a Magus, and that meant she had to be on top of matters at all times. A moment of laxity could mean death or worse.

But those images after Archer's Reality Marble shattered, everything she had seen… Had any of that been real? Could Archer really be Shirou, flung through time thanks to a fluke of fate and his own misfortune? She could hardly believe it, didn't want to believe it. Shirou… Stupid, ignorant, brave and heroic Shirou broken over the course of countless years in service to something that didn't care about his hopes and dreams. He'd been completely destroyed by it.

But she'd already seen parts of that vision before, long ago. She'd seen Archer's death many times after being betrayed by those he'd sworn to protect. She'd thought him foolish to go into it with a smile, and now that she understood the full story she thought he was even more foolish. To make a deal for power without properly understanding the price you would pay? It was insanity! The very fact that Shirou might do something so foolish made her grind her teeth in anger.

But as she looked down at Archer's sleeping face, wanting to touch it but afraid if she did he might disappear, she couldn't hold on to her ire. Everything he'd gone through, both in the past and now, made her want to scold him for being so reckless and also to hold him and never let go! He was just so damn aggravating sometimes!

He'd been unconscious for over a day, waking up just briefly a few hours ago before fading back to sleep again. He'd given her a cocksure grin, telling her he'd be fine despite how much pain he was obviously in. That would be just like him, deflecting his own needs.

She had been by his side for almost the entire time. Sakura had stayed with her, and Rider was making sure to keep a close eye on everyone. The Servant had been on edge ever since the attack, making sure she was always within eyesight or easy reach. Normally she would have thought Rider was being overprotective, especially considering the defenses that she'd placed around the house. But after Berserker had almost overwhelmed them, Rin couldn't really make an argument against her sister's Servant.

Rider was standing in the corner of the room in easy reach of everyone. She was idly fiddling with one of her chains, the metal making a soft clinking sound, but Rin was certain that was an illusion she was presenting. Rider had superb senses, and could react swiftly to pretty much anything. Something that Rin was grateful for. After all, Rider had likely saved Archer's life.

She looked down at him again, hoping he'd wake up but knowing it would be a while before he was strong enough.

"Their plane should have landed by now," Rin said, trying to distract Sakura as well as herself. She turned away from where Archer lay and gave her sister a smile. "So they'll be here soon."

Sakura blinked a little at the sudden shift. She was still giving Rin a concerned look, and Rin wished that she could assure her sister that she was all right. But she had to admit that anything she said would likely not be believed, considering her current state.

"I'm okay, Sakura," she said anyway. Sometimes if you said something enough you could at least halfway make it real. "I'm more worried about you."

That, however, was completely true. The Matou magus they'd encountered in Germany would be returning with them. It had been four years since the battle with Zouken to dismantle the Grail, four years since Sakura had finally been freed from his grip. No one remained of the Matou line, or so they had thought. Could they trust him? Waver seemed to vouch for the man, but Zouken had proven a master of deceit. Would someone of his blood be a person they could fight beside?

Rin's fears were proven correct when her sister flinched, obviously thinking the same things that were going through her own mind. Sakura was likely thinking even worse things than simple betrayal. She had suffered so much…

Rin reached out and hugged her sister close.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I won't let him do anything. You don't need to be scared."

"I'm not," Sakura lied, shaking a little. Rin rubbed her back gently until the shuddering stopped.

"I will as well," Rider said from where she stood. "You can always count on me, Sakura."

Rin gave the Servant a grateful look, even though she knew the taller woman wouldn't be able to see it. Still, Rider gave her a smile. The Servant's senses were quite sharp, so perhaps she could tell that Rin's expression?

"After all," Rider continued, smiling wide. "You're just too cute to be scared like that. It doesn't suit you."

The Servant walked over and poked Sakura on the forehead, which made the young woman squeak and shuffle back. She clutched her forehead and pouted at Rider, who simply smiled more.

_It'll be all right,_ Rin thought as Rider continued to tease her Master, making Sakura blush and fidget as the Servant began cackling. _I'll make sure of it. Nothing will hurt you again, Sakura._

o\O/o

The walk home from the train station wasn't too bad, though the summer heat made it slightly uncomfortable for those without superhuman constitutions. The fact that they'd spent the last few days in much colder climates didn't help matters much. Still, aside from that they had no trouble.

They really weren't expecting any, though they were on guard all the same. Their enemies had expended themselves greatly, and it had cost them when they'd been driven back. Indeed, while Shirou noted his companions still suffered from their wounds, their foes had actually lost a fighter. And with the arrival of Katsuo and Robert, they had gained a new ally. Along with the injuries Archer and Rider had managed to inflict on Berserker it was doubtful that there would be any more attacks for at least a few days. Finally they were making some headway.

It was still a grim business, though. Shirou shuddered a little as he remembered Diarmuid's death. The man had been so desperate, so angry. In the end that anger had stayed with the Lancer even as he perished, crying out his hopes that Robert died painfully and alone. Saber said he had been a calm, honorable warrior once. Shirou really hadn't seen anything like that at all from the man during the times they'd battled. Saber didn't want to talk about it, though. Mentions of the man made her melancholy, and Shirou didn't want to cause her pain.

Still, the thought filled him with equal parts trepidation and anger. This was what the Holy Grail War did to everyone involved. It warped them, pushing them away from any nobility they might hold and toward ever increasing butchery.

Though he guessed it was more than just the Holy Grail War that did that to people. All wars did. He'd seen that first hand on his travels and had to deal with the repercussions… He closed his eyes and forced himself not to think about the men he'd killed in Africa. It helped a little bit, but not much. Talking with Saber about it had been good, but the feelings those memories produced were still strong. Hopefully it would fade in time.

He didn't think he'd ever truly forget them, though. And deep down, he didn't really want to. Maybe the guilt would fade, but he didn't think it would be good for it to vanish entirely.

He looked around as they approached his home, but didn't see any signs of the battle that had occurred. Which only made sense. Rin would want the public at large to remain as ignorant of the Grail War as she could manage, as did the Church and the rest of the Mages Association. She must have repaired whatever damage the Servants had done to the area.

It was a lucky thing Berserker had attacked while it had been raining so heavily. No one had been outside, and with the downpour and the lightning hardly anyone would have been able to hear the battle, or even see it. That had worked in their favor. They had to ensure no innocents got swept into the fires of this new conflict. This ritual had already claimed enough lives as it was.

Though, now that Shirou thought about it, it might not have been such a coincidence that Berserker attacked when he did. Their lack of information on their enemy meant they couldn't ascribe much to his or her motivations at all. But perhaps their foe wished the outside world's noninvolvement as much as they did? Couldn't they have struck during a storm, enhanced the mist that arose, to ensure no one interfered?

The thought lingered as he approached the gate. Perhaps he had some new insight into their enemy, or perhaps he was simply overthinking things? He set the thought aside as he walked toward his front door. They wouldn't know anything for sure until they went over the information they had acquired from the Einzbern.

Rin answered the door before Shirou could even unlock it. She looked miserable, bags under her eyes and slumping a little. She resembled more how she appeared in the morning rather than mid afternoon, and in general looked exhausted. She let out a relieved breath seeing the group.

"Good to see you're all back," she said as she motioned everyone to come inside.

"Good to be back," Shirou said. "And it's good to see you too, Rin. I hope it hasn't been too hard for you."

She gave him a small, sad smile. Shirou blinked, a little confused. He didn't have any time to focus on it, though, before Waver pushed him aside. The man was grumbling a little about how he wanted to sit down, obviously still aching a little from Caster's assault. Shirou moved forward and made way for everyone to come in.

Heracles immediately took physical form out in the yard, sitting down and popping his neck. He'd been forced to remain in spiritual form for quite some time now, and it was obvious even on a face like Heracles' that it was a relief to become physical again. Ilya made her way over to him and sat on his legs, something he bore without comment. It was quite funny, really, seeing the little girl sitting on the legs of such a giant man.

Waver went the wall next to the patio doors and sat down, sighing in relief. He pulled out a cigar and lit it, after which he sighed again. He'd been without one for the last few days while his body took to the healing magic, but now he'd recovered to the point where he could smoke again and was enjoying it immensely. Rin shot him a look, but it shifted to Katsuo as he entered the room.

Sakura was in the kitchen preparing lunch, but she stood up straight at the old man's entrance. Slowly, she turned around and stared at him. Katsuo stared back, his eyes going wide. They went wider when Sakura grimaced in pain, clutching her sides and falling to her knees.

"Sakura!" Shirou cried, rushing over to her. Rin got there first, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and hugging her close. Rider was but a step behind, kneeling next to her Master and looking her over for injuries.

Rin glared at Katsuo, and the old man flinched under the intensity of it. But then his gaze turned to Sakura, and his mouth dropped open. He approached slowly, no longer caring about Rin's angry glare. There was something far more important here.

His expression was one of abject horror; despair so great that he could not stop the tears coming to his eyes as he walked forward. He fell to his knees just a few feet away from Sakura, who was still writhing in pain within her friend and sister's hands. The young girl looked up at him, grasping her abdomen as it rippled beneath her dress. She stared at him fearfully, flinching away as he brought his hand closer.

Rin snatched his hand by the wrist and turned it painfully, making Katsuo grunt. "That's close enough, Matou," she hissed, venom lacing every word. "Whatever you're doing to Sakura, stop it before I break your arm in half."

But Katsuo didn't look at Rin. He only had eyes for Sakura, who huddled back into Shirou and her sister as she stared at him.

"My God," he whispered. "What did he do to you?"

The skin on his face rippled a little, as did his hands. Rin's eyes widened at the feeling, but she did not loosen her grip. After a few moments Sakura's breathing became easier, the undulating flesh of her stomach slowing down before ceasing entirely. She gasped in relief as the pain ended, wonder and fear mixing in her expression as she stared at Katsuo.

"Worms like this… At your age?" he muttered, tears still flowing as he parsed out the full implications of what he felt. "He would have had to put them in when you were a child. Oh God…"

"I was six," Sakura said softly. "The first time he put me in that pit."

"Oh God," Katsuo said again, falling forward and collapsing to the floor. Rin let go of his arm as he rested his head upon the ground. He clutched his skull, burying his hands in his pale hair.

"First Kariya, and now this?" he said weakly. "Are there any limits to my failure? My cowardice?"

"What are you babbling about?" Rin asked, holding Sakura tighter.

Katsuo sat up, and Rin's ire died at the anguish shown on his face. He reached again, and this time he was not stopped. He touched Sakura's cheek lightly, as if afraid of breaking her. Sakura flinched a little, but did not move away from his touch.

"I was so afraid of him," he whispered. "So afraid that I fled and hid myself from magic and anything that might lead him to me. I hoped he would finally die, and that no one would have to suffer under his attentions again."

Katsuo lowered his hand and slouched. It was as if he had no energy left, simply sitting there like a limp doll.

"But I should have known Zouken would live on, that others would be hurt. He killed Kariya, that poor boy, and he's hurt you so much." He stopped, taking on a look of manic thought. His eyes gleamed with a frantic hope as he went on. "I can… I can take the worms out of you, I think. You used to have more, but you can't remove these, right? There's too much risk of injuring you. But I know Matou magic. I can do it."

His words sped up as he continued, growing more and more desperate as he carried on. Shirou was worried. The man was working himself up, which wasn't good for someone who had so recently suffered a heart attack. Though he did have Avalon within him currently, so the old man probably wasn't in too much danger. Katsuo's increasing fervor was still troubling, however. Even Rin was looking at him with concern.

"I can remove the rest, get rid of them all," he whispered. "Could that make up for it? Then maybe I-" he cut off suddenly, turning his head to the side as he began to curse himself. "No! You stupid failure! You should have been there!"

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he cried tears of shame and remorse.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should have stopped him! I should have…"

No one did anything, knew what to do here. They had not known Katsuo for very long. Outside of his basic history and his obvious sincerity to end the current Grail War the man was a mystery to them. Ilya was giving the proceedings a weighing look, while Waver and Alexander stood back. They likely felt it wasn't their place to intrude. Saber bowed her head, acknowledging the man's pain.

And Robert? The austere Servant made no motion to help his friend. Robert simply stood back, holding his hat to his chest and closed his eyes as his Master fell apart in front of Sakura.

Sakura, meanwhile, shifted out of Rin and Shirou's grip to make her way closer to Katsuo. Rin gave her sister a concerned glance, but Sakura was determined. She reached out toward him.

Katsuo looked up when he felt a hand touch his head. Sakura was crying too, but no longer looked at him with fear. She moved away from Rin and Shirou to embrace the old man. Katsuo's eyes widened in shock, but he returned the gesture and held Sakura close. They stayed like this for some time, each sharing in grief both self-imposed and forced upon them as they cried into each other's shoulders, taking strength in the fact that another truly understood of the pain they'd suffered.

It wouldn't erase what had been done to them or what they had failed to do. But for the two of them it provided comfort to lingering pains that had yet to fully heal. And for now, at least, that was enough.


	8. A Night to Remember

Fate/Once More

A Night to Remember

Shirou wiped the sweat from his brow as he went to work cooking food for almost fifteen people. It wasn't easy, and for some reason over a fifth of his food stores were used up. But with Sakura's help in the kitchen he endured, and between what he had and the leftovers in his fridge he was sure he'd be able to make a good enough dinner for everyone. He had his pride as a chef to consider, after all.

Two days had quickly come and gone after his return to Japan. For the most part they all stayed inside the house, ordering takeout occasionally while Waver and Rin worked on the amulet they had managed to wheedle away from Jubstacheit's grip. One or both of them were working on it most hours of the day, trying to crack the protections placed within it without breaking the thing. It was apparently finely tuned magecraft, and most of Rin's explanations on the matter simply went over Shirou's head.

He was worried about Rin. The poor woman looked so haggard since Berserker's attack and Archer's injury. She seemed distracted by something, and oddly enough every time their eyes met Shirou noticed that she looked sad.

He'd been meaning to ask her about it, but he'd been afraid that he might be intruding on something personal if he did. And she was likely just worried about Archer anyway. The man had been wounded horribly, though he was well on his way to recovery. He'd denied the use of Avalon, insisting he'd be fine with a few days to recover.

Still, Archer's condition seemed to have Rin on edge, and that made Sakura worried as well. He could tell even as she moved about he kitchen helping him get dinner prepared. Every now and then she'd pause for a moment before resuming her work, and occasionally she'd glance in the direction of the room where Rin and Waver were working to unlock the Einzebern's recording of the Third War.

Sakura was keeping up a brave face, but it was obvious she was concerned for her sister. However, since Rin spent so much time trying to break the enchantments on the necklace Sakura hadn't been able to give her sister any real support. Which, of course, made her feel even more helpless. It made Shirou feel helpless too. He really couldn't do anything to help either of them, and it bothered him.

So he'd tried to take his mind off it. He'd resumed training with Saber, just like they had so many years ago. He was proud of the fact that he could last longer now, though he still fell woefully short of competing with her at her best. She was still faster and stronger than him, not to mention more skilled. But that was fine. The very fact that he had improved was in itself a victory.

_Could have done without the audience, though,_ he thought to himself as he added some more sauce to the stir-fry.

Rider, Ilya and Alexander had made sure to watch the sparring sessions and give commentary. They also came, of course, to needle Shirou whenever Saber forced him to the ground. There was much laughter at his expense when Saber disarmed him or knocked the wind out of him, and it had made his ears red when they had gotten too loud about it. But he was tough. He could take it.

The memory made him smile. Saber was still amazing no matter how many times he saw it. Even pushing himself to his utmost with Reinforcement he couldn't keep up with her.

The soreness in his muscles made him miss Avalon, but everyone had decided it would be best to keep it in Katsuo for at least the immediate future. Shirou wasn't entirely sure about the limits of the artifact's regenerative abilities, but he did know about heart attacks. Katsuo's had been massive, and would have easily ended his life if they hadn't placed the holy sheath inside him. Even if by some miracle he had lived, the damage would have been substantial. If Avalon could strengthen his body a little before they removed it then they would have the advantage of Robert being able to fight without risking his Master's life.

He looked over his shoulder and into his dining room, where Katsuo and Robert were sitting down and watching the television. Robert seemed quite attentive of the device, which was showing an entertainment program that had been made a few decades ago. Katsuo, for his part, didn't seem as interested but was sticking near his friend.

"A ship to travel to the stars," Robert said to his Master as the show played out, a rather somber man with balding hair speaking powerfully to a smiling man who looked like he was observing something amusing. "To seek out new worlds and civilizations? What a marvelous thought. I wonder if humanity will ever achieve something so grand."

"I have to agree with your sentiment!" Alexander said from where he lounged behind them, easily seeing over their heads. "Just think of it, a whole new horizon once you've reached the ends of the world! Something grand and fresh to explore and to conquer!"

"I was not speaking of conquest," Robert responded, turning slightly so he could look at Alexander. "Simply seeing that new frontier seems an exciting enough prospect."

"Bah," Rider said from the corner where she was reading a book. She was wearing a set of glasses Waver had managed to receive from a peer of his that apparently sealed the power of her eyes. Something she was happy for, since that meant she could read without fear of harming anyone. "The world is plenty large enough, if you ask me. What's the point of going out into the void?"

"Ah, my dear woman," Alexander said with exaggerated weariness. "You have no imagination! Think of the sights to see! New lands, new oceans and new skies! Tell me, does that not get your blood boiling with the thirst for adventure?"

"Rocks, water and clouds?" she asked with one eyebrow arched. "Not one bit."

"How can you be so dismissive?" Alexander cried dramatically. "Just think of it! No boundaries to hold you back, no horizon to limit your view. There's only an endless journey and the will to forge your own path. Is this not grand?"

"If you like that sort of thing," Rider said as she turned back to her book. "Personally, I've always been fine making due with limited space. Everything past that gets too bothersome. One world is more than enough."

Alexander sighed, a deep rumbling sound that probably shook the floor a little with its strength. "Medusa, I despair of you. To think another member of my own class would be so restricted and dull!"

"I wasn't aware we were on first name terms, Macedonian," Medusa said as she turned a page.

"Oh, don't be so cold now!" Alexander said with a laugh. "We are all comrades here!"

"I have to agree with Robert," Saber said from where she sat at the table. She sipped her tea, enjoying its flavor while she snacked on a few nuts. "To go out and conquer seems a waste of the opportunity, in my opinion."

"If you all would not mind," Robert said in an even voice, looking back at the conversing Servants over his shoulder. "I am trying to enjoy the story. If you must talk, please keep your voices down."

Shirou had to restrain a chuckle at their antics, and he could hear Sakura giggle a little from where she was preparing some vegetables beside him. It was just so strange to see these powerful men and women away from the battlefield. He was glad for the distraction, for both himself and for Sakura. The Servants were so different while they rested. It almost didn't fit them, relaxing here like this on a lazy weekday afternoon.

Well, for everyone but Alexander anyway. The man didn't seem capable of just sitting still. He always seemed to have to do something with his time or he got bored. Which had made the last few days a bit troublesome. Waver was constantly busy with Rin, so he wasn't available to keep the bombastic Servant entertained. That had fallen to the rest of them; usually at the man's own prodding.

"I would prefer you all be quiet as well," Heracles rumbled softly. He was sitting out in the yard; Ilya curled up with a pillow on his lap. She had to sleep more often in order to conserve her strength. Even when the Servant was not using Mad Enhancement, maintaining Heracles was an enormous drain on her stamina. "Too much noise will bother my Master."

"Then let us speak of something more substantive," Saber said softly before biting into a small rice cracker. She finished it before continuing. "Such as plans for the remaining enemy Servants. Some of them are already known to me, but there are others I am less familiar with."

"You speak of the Lancer, I take it?" Heracles said with as gentle a voice as could come from a throat like his. "Achilles. He was formidable."

"Yes," Saber said. "He concerns me, as well as any other Servants from the Third War."

"Achilles is a tough opponent," Alexander said, his volume uncharacteristically subdued for once. He moved closer to the table to address everyone. "But if we can manage to fight him two on one, we should be able to dispatch him. One strike to his heel and the man's finished."

"That won't work," Robert said, fully turning away from the television to join the group. He put his hands on his knees as he sat cross-legged. He looked like he was mulling over something unpleasant. "His heel isn't his weakness. I think he might have some control over where exactly the vulnerable spot of his legend is placed."

"What's your reasoning?" Alexander asked. "Have you fought him before?"

Robert nodded. "I figured out his identity early in my War, though it's not like the man took great pains to hide it. With that discovery, I thought I could outmaneuver him and take the day. After a great deal of effort I managed to shoot his heels." He grimaced and clutched the space between his ribs and hip. "All I got for my trouble was a frantic retreat and a gaping hole in my side."

"Well," Medusa said as she closed her book, now completely engrossed in the conversation. "That's certainly a problem. How can we expect to deal with him, then?" She motioned toward Heracles. "If Berserker couldn't drop him, I don't have much hope for the rest of us."

"I might be able to defeat him," Saber said. "But even with a proper flow of prana between myself and Shirou, it would be very draining. I likely wouldn't be able to fight to my full strength should my strike fail."

Shirou looked up from where he was working. Saber was talking about Excalibur. He remembered that sword, shining so beautifully as Saber held it aloft. It was even more beautiful when its full strength was unleashed. Saber had annihilated Medusa in an instant, turning the evening sky as bright as midday. It was glorious and powerful, one of the most magnificent weapons of the Grail War. Only Gilgamesh had been able to rebuff its might.

But what Shirou remembered most was how weak Saber had been after using it. Calling out the name of her weapon against Medusa had left her so drained she'd almost died. The exchange of prana between him and Saber was better this time around, with Shirou actually giving Saber prana to sustain herself, but it still wasn't a great amount. Using Excalibur would tax her greatly.

_Best to just avoid using it altogether,_ he thought as he twirled some noodles in his wok to spread the sauce evenly. _I don't want to see Saber pushed to that point ever again._

"Ah," Medusa said, grimacing at a memory. "I know what you're talking about."

"As do I," Alexander cut in. He moved over and leaned his elbow on the table, supporting his chin with it as he looked at Saber. "It's truly a mighty attack, King of Knights, but aren't we trying to avoid collateral damage?"

Saber gave him a sharp look. "Are you saying I cannot control myself, King of Conquerors?"

"Well…" he said slowly. "You did seem to cause the most property damage amongst all of us."

Saber didn't deign to give Alexander a response, to which the larger Servant just laughed. Shirou sighed and started setting the food on plates as Saber glared at the man. They'd been sniping at each other all the time they'd been in his home. There wasn't any real heat to it, but the constant back and forth between them was exhausting after a while.

Still, he supposed that was just how they got along. It was better than the two of them outright hating each other, at any rate. It was tense every now and then having all these Servants in one place. Manipulation and violence were what usually happened when Servants met, and without a common foe right in front of them it was sometimes hard not to act on old survival instincts.

Shirou was sure everything would work out, though. They'd managed to get through this War without losing anyone, even if there had been some close calls. If they could just keep up their momentum then everything would be fine.

The young man smiled at Saber as he set out dishes for everybody to eat on. She stopped frowning at Alexander to smile back at him, and he felt a little warmth in his chest. In the face of her smile his worries just faded away, and he could just bask in the simple fact that she was there.

_Yes,_ he thought. _Everything will be fine._

o\O/o

Saber was content as she looked up at the sky. Dinner had been delicious, as was typical of Shirou's cooking. It was just as she remembered. No, it was even better. He had improved his skills in the time they had been separated. There was just something about his food, made with such dedication and care, that sated her hunger like no other meal could.

There weren't many stars out this night. The light from the city blocked out the shine of those celestial bodies. She thought it a pity. One of her few pastimes back in Camelot had been to gaze at the stars at night and imagine what wonders they held. It had been something to help ease the burden of kingship, if ever so slightly.

Her expression turned melancholy at the thought of her kingdom, so long lost to the ravages of war and time. She recalled her victories, and there were indeed many. She'd gathered the many different peoples of England together, created a council of the wisest and strongest knights in all the land to help her guide the realm to peace and prosperity, all while fending off invaders and other threats. It was more than almost anyone ever accomplished in a lifetime. It was something worth being proud of, of holding her head high.

But all too often her thoughts turned not to her myriad successes, but instead her crippling failures. She had been blind to the discontent of the people in her pursuit of being the perfect king. She hadn't known what to do with Mordred, so she had essentially ignored her. Lancelot's affair with Gwenevere became public and added to the seed of unease that had taken root within the populous.

Those were but the greatest. There were a number of lesser mistakes that had built upon each other, adding their weight to the pile. There had been so much that the pillars of the kingdom could no longer hold under the strain of supporting them all. In the end, everything had all fallen apart.

But even if it had, did that make truly make the accomplishment worth less? There had been years of peace, of stability and order. Did her failures remove her triumphs? Did how something end determine what its existence was worth?

Footsteps to her left drew Saber out of her musings. She turned and looked up, making her face an impassive mask when she saw whom it was. Alexander was there, holding a bottle and two cups. He grinned at her, his face splitting wide as he held them out to her.

"Evening," he said casually. "The boy is cleaning up, and the rest are heading to sleep. I thought this might be a good chance for us to catch up."

"And drink, I presume?"

"Of course! You can't have any good talk between comrades without drinking. It's just not done."

"I recall the last time I shared a drink with you," Saber said evenly. "I can't say it was the most enjoyable experience."

"Was that because of me, Goldy's personality or Assassin's attack?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"A little bit of everything, I believe."

"Hah!" Alexander barked. He continued to chuckle as he handed Saber one of the glasses. "Let's try it again. Hopefully there'll be fewer problems this time around."

Saber eyed the glass, then Alexander, before taking it and holding it out for him to pour the drink. It was sake, likely taken from Shirou's larder. She frowned at the drink, and then up at the taller Servant.

"I don't appreciate you taking things from Shirou's stores, Alexander," she said. "He works hard to support himself."

Alexander poured himself some and laughed. "It was the boy who showed me where it was when I asked! Seems he hardly ever drinks the stuff. More's the pity, really. That young man could afford to loosen up a little."

"I think Shirou is just fine," Saber said before taking a small sip. "Certainly better than some other men I've known."

"Oh? Is that so?" Alexander said before taking a much deeper drink from his own glass. "I've noticed you two, you know. The way you act around each other."

Saber didn't respond, her expression smooth and unreadable. All she did was glance at Alexander before taking another sip of the sake. For a brief moment there were no sounds save a few insects flitting about in the yard.

Alexander took her silence as a sign to keep going.

"It was a surprise, I'll tell you that! After all, you were so serious all the time I'd known you! And then I come back and you're so much more comfortable. I've got to say, it certainly makes you easier to look at."

Saber allowed herself a small smile as she held her cup in front of her face. She twirled the liquid gently as she spoke. "I have gone through much since we last met, Alexander. My time with Shirou taught me certain things, revealed certain truths." She took another sip. "The past is best left to the past. I see that now."

Alexander made a small grunt of agreement. "So you no longer have any foolish desires of changing your legacy?" He smiled at Saber's nod and put his cup to his lips. "I'm glad, though I do wonder at what the boy did to convince you. You stayed strong toward that goal despite my best efforts. It's really quite impressive."

"Well," Saber said as she set her cup down. "You lacked certain advantages Shirou had. For one, a number of his own actions during the War showed me how foolish some of my decisions were. It helped put certain things in perspective."

Alexander nodded as he took another deep swig of sake, draining the cup.

"For another," Saber continued. "You and I weren't sleeping with each other."

Alexander's eyes went wide and tore the cup from his lips, spitting out the sake and coughing loudly. He slammed a hand onto his chest repeatedly to clear his throat, only nominally succeeding as he continued to hack onto the grass.

Saber waited calmly for him to finish, keeping a completely straight face as she brought her cup back to her lips. Alexander looked at her and held out a hand, waving off concern that she wasn't showing.

"So you and he," Alexander said before he let out another wet cough. "You and he have gone that far? The way you two dance around each other, I'd have thought you…"

"Perhaps you're not as observant as you think you are." Saber interrupted, pouring herself another glass. She held out the bottle to Alexander. He moved his cup toward her and let the smaller Servant refill it.

"Perhaps," he said before carefully taking another drink. "So then you and he are truly together? I thought so."

"We are," Saber said. "Though at the end of the last War I faded away before we could truly explore what we felt for each other. Seeing him again now is… It is good. It is good that we have more time together, short as it may be."

"My sincerest congratulations on your reunion."

"Thank you," Saber responded.

The two of them sipped their drinks, enjoying the taste of the alcohol. It wasn't the treasured wine Gilgamesh had produced, but it had a charm all on its own on this warm summer night. It was a simple, cool taste that mixed well with the heat of the evening. That was something both of them could appreciate.

"Well," the King of Conquerors said. "This sharing of cups between kings is already going better than the last time! No interruptions, and barely any insults!"

"Consider any words that may have offended you as evening the scales a little from our last drink together," Saber said. She took another sip, letting herself enjoy the flavor a little before continuing. "But I do have one final thing to say to you, Alexander."

Alexander quirked an eyebrow at Saber's statement, and motioned with his free hand for her to continue speaking.

"I have thought on what we said that day, about what makes a proper king. After our last meeting I had come to conclusion that you were right, that I had not been the king my people needed and sought to use the grail to set someone else on the throne."

Alexander scowled at Saber's words, and opened his mouth to speak. The smaller Servant raised a hand to stop him and kept going, giving him no chance to talk.

"But now, after my time with Shirou and the years I have spent in Avalon, I have come to a different conclusion."

She set her cup aside and stood up, facing Alexander directly. The big man put his own cup down and locked his eyes with hers. His gaze was strong and sturdy, like unyielding stone. But Saber's gaze was like green fire twirling within the wind.

Alexander's expression had gone stoic as Saber had spoken, and he revealed nothing of his thoughts now. Saber, on the other hand, had grown more and more open as she went on. Now she stood before him, hiding nothing. Her posture was a challenge to him, her tone defiance of his words spoken so long ago during that mad feast between kings.

"We differ about what makes a proper ruler, Alexander," she said. "We will likely never agree on this. I can accept that. But now, and forever more, I know this to be true. I was and am a king, no matter what you or anyone else says. Nothing can take that away from me. I have made mistakes, but not even that will break down this truth. I am Arturia Pendragon, King of Britain! And I will be recognized as such."

They stared at each other a moment more, neither moving an inch. No wind blew, like the Earth itself was holding its breath. The tension in the atmosphere was palpable. The wills of these two heroes, separated by thousands of years only to be brought together now by a fluke of magic, seemed to tear at the sensibilities of the world.

It had been a long time coming, this moment. It had been approaching ever since they'd shared cups and Alexander had revealed the proof of his kingship. His scorn of her had been near absolute, and despite their continued battles they had not truly spoken again since then. It had been left hanging in the air, the conflict of their ideals. Now Saber had finally answered him with full confidence, brooking no rebuttals. How would he respond?

There could be but one answer.

Alexander laughed. It was a deep, uproarious belly laugh that made him shake all over. He looked at Saber, who had kept her expression set, and laughed even more. It took him quite a while to finally calm down, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Saber," he said finally. "Oh, Saber. That's fine. It truly is. That's all ever you needed to say."

He stood up, towering over her though neither took notice of this fact. He clapped a hand on her shoulder, smiling. Saber smiled too, finally cracking the mask she'd set. It was almost comical, the difference in size between them. But that was merely a physical matter, and unimportant. For in spirit, they stood as equals.

"Your feelings are the only ones that have ever mattered on this," he continued. "And now you understand the king need not be alone! What do I have now to deny your claim?" He laughed again. "Nothing! I approve of you, King of Britain!"

"My thanks," Saber said. "Not that I require it, but it gratifying to hear, none the less."

"Heh," Alexander chuckled. "Well, that's good. This meeting truly has gone quite a bit better than the last."

He sat back down and poured himself more sake.

"I don't suppose I could still convince you to join my army, oh King?"

"Of course not," Saber responded, returning to her own seat. "I'll not stand beneath any man. Beside, perhaps, but not under. And you are not the man I walk alongside with."

"Ahh, well," Alexander said. "It was worth a shot."

The sliding doors further down the porch opened up, cutting off any further conversation. Saber glanced that way, and Alexander turned his head to observe what was happening. Shirou should still have been cleaning up, and Ilya had gone to bed hours ago with Heracles watching over her. So who was wandering about?

Robert and Medusa walked out, looking at the walls around the house and at the shed set in the yard. They spoke softly to one another, though their movement was animated. Robert made a sweeping gesture toward the yard, and Medusa shook her head. That made the man growl for some reason. From how they acted, they seemed to be looking for something.

"Oi!" Alexander called. "What are you two up to this fine evening?"

"Confirming something," Robert said. "I've been feeling an itch between my shoulder blades the last day or so."

"So he went to me," Medusa said. "Because I've got the best senses out of all of us and I've been feeling edgy too."

"But what exactly are you trying to confirm?" Saber asked.

"Whether or not our borders are truly secure," Robert said. "I'm not entirely sure they are."

Saber and Alexander glanced at each other before looking back at the other two Riders.

"Need any help?" Alexander asked.

o\O/o

Rin scrubbed a hand through her hair as she walked away from the room where she and Waver were working on the jewel that held the Einzbern information on the Third War. They'd been struggling with it for hours, tackling it every which way to tease out the secrets held inside. It had been slow going.

The main problem was how the defenses were set up. It wasn't all one big piece, but rather several pieces aimed toward obfuscation and, at worst, elimination of the gem's contents. They had to carefully remove each individual defense set into the thing without tripping any of the others, a task that required precision and time.

After almost ten hours of fiddling with the tiny thing, Rin was getting tired. Waver was too, but he claimed he'd be all right for a while yet. He wasn't as skilled as Rin in the handling of gemcraft, but he was fine enough to make headway for when she returned. And she really needed a break right now.

_Maybe a nap, too,_ she thought as she approached another room down the hallway. She noted the lack of light with some surprise. _Or maybe just go to bed. Is it night already? I'll have to get something to eat before turning in._

Rin was quiet as she walked into the room, carefully closing the door behind her without the latch making any noise. It was dark, and her eyes hadn't adapted to the dimness yet to see much of the interior. But she knew what, and who, was in there. She didn't want to disturb him.

Not that it mattered much.

"You make enough noise to wake the dead," Archer said softly from where he lay.

"Hmph," Rin responded. She could just _hear_ the man's smirk. "I suppose you think you're being clever."

"I think I'm damned hilarious."

"Well, you're not," Rin said, sitting next to where she knew his futon was set.

"Eh," Archer said. "Everyone's a critic. Oh, how I must suffer to have a master as harsh as you, Rin."

Rin glared at him, but eventually softened. She could still hear the pain in his voice. She'd drained herself of prana in order to keep him alive, but his wounds were severe. Even now she could feel him pulling at her reserves. Combined with the lack of real sleep, it was leaving her exhausted. But she knew she had managed to hide the worst of it from showing.

"You should get some rest," Archer said, and she felt her ire rise up at him proving her wrong. "You'll be no good to help anyone if you drive yourself into the ground."

"You'd know something about that, wouldn't you?" Rin snapped. "Pushing yourself until you're broken and torn. Dammit, Shirou, I-"

Rin slapped a hand to her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to say anything even remotely close to that. But it had come out anyway, and she immediately regretted it. This wasn't how she'd wanted to broach this issue.

Archer's mouth closed with an audible click of his teeth. She'd surprised him. That didn't happen often. Normally she'd have appreciated the victory in their little verbal sparring matches, but this time all she could do was wince. This wasn't going like how she'd expected it at all.

What would he say? He wasn't talking, and that made her worried. Archer always had some witty response or comment, usually in line with his bad sense of humor. But he was completely silent now, and that meant he was thinking. She wondered at what thoughts were going through his mind. Was he as concerned as she was? Did he even care about his own situation, about what it had done to her? Did any of that matter to him?

"How much do you know?" he asked at last.

"Everything," Rin said. "Or near enough."

Archer sighed. "I was afraid of that." He shifted a little where he lay, and with her growing night vision she could se he'd placed a hand over his face. "You didn't need to see all the gruesome details, Rin. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Rin scowled.

"Oh, that is just so damn _typical_ of you."

Archer blinked and moved his hand away. "What?"

"Oh, never mind my own problems," Rin said, making her voice deeper and gruffer in a rather lacking attempt to emulate her Servant. "I'm sorry you had to see all of my terrible life." Her voice returned to normal as she glared at Archer. "God, you really are him. Putting so much care into other people and none for yourself."

"I don't think I appreciate you making fun of me like this," Archer said.

"I only wish I was," Rin responded. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to get a grip on the situation. "God, Archer. How is this possible? How can you be Shirou?"

"You of all people should know, considering."

"Rhetorical question," Rin snapped. She took a moment to compose herself before continuing. "Making a deal to become a Counter Guardian." She whispered before she sighed and hugged her legs to herself. "You brave, naïve idiot. You doomed yourself. You doomed yourself and I helped you do it."

"No!" Archer hissed. He leaned up a little to get a better look at her despite the obvious pain the motion caused him. "No. It was my choice, Rin."

"That you wouldn't have made if I hadn't shown you just how little you understood about magic," Rin shot back. "I introduced you to the wider world, and this is what you did with it. I'm as much at fault as you are."

"Of course not," Archer said. "My decisions are my own, as are my mistakes. You can't claim responsibility for what I did."

Neither of them spoke after that. What could be said? Rin knew she bore some culpability for what Archer… for what Shirou… had become. She had a hand in what he'd gone through before and after his death in pursuit of his dream. But Archer would never admit that. Even as broken and cynical as he was, he still held true to some part of his past ideals.

That made it more tragic, in a way. Now that she knew where to look, she could see just how similar he still was to the young man she'd befriended years ago. It seemed obvious, in hindsight. There were a hundred little things, things that had always bothered her but that she'd never given much thought to.

It wasn't just physically, though she saw a great deal of Shirou in Archer's face now. It was also in the way he held himself. It was in how he frowned and how he placed his concern for her so far over concern for his own hurts. He was harsher now, worn by time and pain. But at his core Rin could see he was still Shirou Emiya. He was still the boy who cared too much.

"Does it have to end this way," Rin asked, as much to break the silence as to get a real answer. "Does he… Do you, always have to suffer?"

"I honestly don't know," Archer said, finally lying down again with a small sigh. "So much is different here."

That made Rin blink. "What do you mean?"

"I don't recall any of this, for one thing," Archer said. "And I didn't go to medical school after the War. I decided to go straight into being a superhero after graduating high school." His face grew very sad for a moment. "Ilya wasn't alive either."

Rin put her legs down and moved closer to her Servant. "Okay, so why are things different here?"

"I don't know," Archer said with frustration. "Some of it might be because I was summoned by you during the War, because that never happened when I went through it as a Master. It's a big difference, and maybe that caused some ripples. As for the rest, I've no idea. I wouldn't have been around in Fuyuki when all this would have been going on."

"Then it's not set," Rin said. "There's no guarantee what happened to you will happen to Shirou?"

"Maybe?" Archer said half-heartedly. He grunted as Rin glared at him. "I'm sorry, Rin, but don't really know. He's still like how I was in so many ways, and in some he's different. I've no idea how he'll turn out."

Rin was shocked by Archer's frankness, and almost as shocked by his distress. This really wasn't like him. He was really bothered by all this, by all the changes from what he remembered. It was throwing him off balance.

It suddenly struck Rin that this was the most open Archer had ever been with her. He'd always been so cool and aloof, and Rin could admit she'd found that kind of attractive. It had also been infuriating at times, but still attractive. But to see him like this, so confused and frustrated, was just something she couldn't reconcile for the image she'd built up of Archer. He was a man who was in control of the situation, whether it be with swords or words. For him to be anything else was just too strange.

He'd sacrificed himself for her, to buy her time to escape. She'd played it cool afterward, but she'd never forgotten that moment. She'd always been annoyed by how little she'd known about him. Now she knew everything about her Servant, about his past and what motivated him.

So where did that leave them?

"Archer, I…"

Suddenly, just on the edge of her senses, a presence bloomed in her awareness. It was subtle and creeping, like a shadow just out of sight. Even after realizing its existence she could barely detect it. Had it been there this whole time? How had she not noticed it before now?

It was situated in the corner of the room opposite the door, high up near the ceiling. It was watching her, had been watching her ever since she'd gone into the room. She looked up at it, ready to confront whatever it was, and realized that she was a dead woman.

The knives were already flying toward her before Assassin even revealed himself. Ten in total, each moving as fast as a bullet from a gun. Easily avoidable for a Servant, but against a human it was complete overkill. In the brief moment they were in flight Rin knew, without a doubt, that she was going to die.

And then Archer threw himself against her, pinning her to the ground. She could feel the knives slam into his back as he held her, hear him gasping for breath as the blades slid through his skin and into his flesh. Blood pooled from his wounds, and Rin felt its warmth around her as it seeped into the floor. His life was pouring out of him, and she was bathing in it as he collapsed on top of her.

Her eyes widened in horror, but she didn't have time to fully register what had happened. Assassin was already drawing more knives, getting ready to throw again. Rin opened her mouth to scream, knowing the second attack would succeed where the first had failed but hoping that she could at least warn the others before she perished.

And then the door exploded as someone kicked it in.

"Assassin!" Alexander roared as he lunged into the room, his sword drawn.

The Servant of the shadows turned toward Alexander and changed the direction of his attack, throwing his knives toward the Rider. Alexander's sword moved in blurring slashes, deflecting the darting blades even as he came in close. The heavy short sword was like air in his hands, and he let none of those knives come close to his skin.

But that momentary distraction was all Assassin needed. The black clad Servant leaped from his perch, darting above Alexander and leaping out the door. The big Servant cursed and turned.

"Damnation and hellfire!" someone else, Robert, roared from outside. "He's getting away!"

Rin heard more voices outside and many feet moving in pursuit. But she didn't care about that. It was as if all that was happening in another world. Because all she could focus on was the weight of the man on top of her and the ache in her hand. An ache she'd felt long ago, back in the forest by the Einzbern mansion.

"Heh," Archer gritted out, smiling even as his face contorted with pain. "Not exactly how I daydreamed lying on top of you."

"Archer!" Rin shrieked. She pulled herself upright and held him close. His back was a bloody mess. Every knife had hit dead on, carving out great chunks of his flesh. Just by itself that would be bad, but Archer had still been recovering! He couldn't afford to get hurt like this! "Archer, don't die! You can't die!"

"Not sure I can manage that," he croaked out. "Even with a command seal."

He was right. Rin could already feel him fading, his spiritual core having taken far too much abuse over the last few days. Motes of golden light flickered into the air, and she could see his legs fading away. She held him tighter, pumped as much prana as she could into their bond to try and sustain him. But it was no use. Archer sucked up the like a sponge, but it wasn't doing anything but delaying the inevitable.

"You can't die," Rin sobbed. "Please…"

"I'm sorry," Archer whispered. Rin shook her head. "I don't think… I can…"

He grimaced, and Rin felt a sympathetic stinging in her hand where the command seals rested. They pulsed in a quickening rhythm, the tempo increasing as Archer continued to vanish. He was fading faster now no matter how much prana Rin gave her Servant, and she felt light headed as she pushed her circuits to their maximum attempting to sustain him. The room felt like it was spinning around them, only her and Archer staying solid as everything else spiraled out of control at the edge of her vision. It made her dizzy, and she felt like she would pass out in an instant if she stopped focusing on the man dying in her arms.

"Please," Archer whispered, cutting through the growing delirium that had replaced Rin's world. "Please… don't let him… end up like me. Don't let him…"

"I'll save you," Rin interrupted. "I'll find a way. I'll set you free."

Archer didn't respond. He just smiled at her, a sad little thing, and for a moment he looked just like Shirou. It was a pure, honest look of affection. It was something that should have been odd on Archer, but instead fit him so well. Rin felt her heart catch a little looking at that smile.

"It was fun, Rin."

And then he was gone.

o\O/o

The fragment of the Assassin Sayd knelt before the Magus, who stood with his arms crossed. The Servant had reported what he had seen and heard, as well as the likely death of the Archer that had gotten in the way of his attempt to kill the Tohsaka Magus. He was succinct and to the point with his information, gathered over the days he had stayed hidden within the household. There were no embellishments, no gloating. All there was were the straight facts.

It was best to be professional about such things, after all.

"So they did get something from old Acht," the Magus said as he cupped his chin in thought. "Did you learn how close they were to deciphering its contents?"

"From what I heard, my Master," Assassin replied. "They have made good progress, but I cannot say for certain when they will finish."

"Another day or two, most likely," the Magus responded. "The defenses laid into that were made when I was much younger. A mage of the Tohsaka line won't be troubled with it for too much longer."

"For that, I must apologize, my Master," Sayd said. "To fail in striking the target, even if another enemy falls, is an embarrassment to you and the skills of the Hashshashin."

"It is no matter," the Magus said. "This is more than enough for now."

"And what, exactly, does this accomplish?" Gilgamesh asked from where he leaned upon the rocky wall. "Why were you so concerned about what they learned from that shriveled up old spell slinger?"

"That is none of your concern," the Magus snapped.

"Hmph," Gilgamesh snorted. "I'm growing tired of this."

"As am I," Achilles said from where he sat on the floor, his shield and spear set before him. "I desire to go forth and battle again! We should not be sitting here like this!" He leaned forward, grinning like a madman. It was a sinister thing in the dim light. "There are enemies to fight!"

"You will stay here until Berserker and Caster have recovered fully," the Magus said. "I will brook no further discussion on the matter."

Gilgamesh snarled at the man's order, and the Magus raised his arm in response. The command seals glowed briefly, challenging the defiance of the King of Heroes. The golden haired Servant glared at the Magus with hate in his eyes, but the old man didn't flinch. The command seals simply glowed again, brighter this time.

Gilgamesh turned aside. "Feh. Meddling over such trifles isn't worth my time."

The Magus let out a sigh of relief, so slight none could hear it, and lowered his arm. He nodded to the Assassin, dismissing him, and spared a glare for Achilles' disappointed groan. The other man crossed his arms and leaned back, sulking.

Nodding again, the Magus turned and walked down the hallway that connected the chamber to the cleaner and more carved out portion of his lair. He walked calmly for some distance until he was well away from where the Servants had been commanded to stay. Only then, well out of sight, did he allow his fatigue to show.

He leaned against the wall with one hand and breathed harshly, sucking in as much air as he could manage. Lights flashed before his eyes, and he could hear a ringing in his ears. Berserker had nearly killed the comatose mage that was his prana battery when he'd attacked the Emiya household, and again while he healed. The strain of supporting the armored Servant had bled over into the Magus himself, as did the energy required for the mad warrior's recovery. It was taking its toll.

"The system isn't as good as I'd hoped," he muttered, wincing as heat coursed through his veins. His entire body felt like it was on fire, that he should be burnt to ashes and scattered in the wind. "But it will hold. It must hold."

He pushed himself upright and continued on. He thought about checking on Avenger again, but if he focused his attention he could hear the faint sound of the Servant's screams. He'd been doing that ever since Diarmuid had fallen, and it seemed worse now that the Tohsaka Archer was dead. He gave a grim smile at that. He was fine if Avenger suffered as they moved ever toward the goal of the Grail.

Satisfied, he turned away from the path to his innermost sanctum and toward another door. This one was set with a heavy lock, firmly latched shut to repel all attempts at entry. Though in truth, this was the least of the protective measures he'd placed upon this door.

He pulled out the key and set it within the lock. It clicked open, and he carefully picked it up and carried it inside as he opened the door. He set it down gently before closing the entrance behind him, taking care not to make too much noise.

The room was bright and comfortable, with light blue painted walls and sturdy wooden furniture. Chairs were set around a small table, with a vase full of bright flowers resting in the middle. Thee faint scent of lilacs filled the air, coming from the scented candles set in holsters closer up to the ceiling and out of easy reach. A wardrobe stood open in the corner, revealing a number of dresses cut in an old European style.

Most impressive was the bed. It was a large thing with an equally large mattress. It was so thick and plump that someone laying down would sink straight into it. It was a mattress fit for royalty. The bed was curtained on all but one side, those particular coverings tied to one of the four posts set on each corner.

But the Magus' attention was more focused on what lay atop the bed.

The woman was beautiful, her gleaming white skin without blemish or fault. Her silver hair rested around her head, easily reaching her shoulders. Her face was aristocratic and fine with a sharp nose and high cheekbones. With her light hair and pale skin, she looked more like a fairy of myth than a human being. Her hands, delicate and soft, rested in her stomach in gentle repose. She was clad in a dress of soft yellow that went down to her ankles, a summer dress better suited for the outdoors than for laying about.

He walked toward her, and she turned to look at him briefly. He had to restrain a wince at those red eyes. She'd had eyes as blue as the winter sky, once. But it was not just the color that unnerved him. It was the emptiness in them, the lack of life where once vitality and joy had rested, that truly struck at his heart.

She looked back toward the ceiling as he stood by her, and did not move an inch as he rested a hand atop her head. She did nothing but lay there, breathing softly, and the Magus looked down at her with tired, sad eyes. She was a doll with its strings cut, hardly any will within her at all. And that, more than anything else, was like a dagger of ice plunged into his heart.

"Soon, Syllia," he said gently as he stroked her hair. She remained unresponsive to his touch, staring ahead without any care at all. "Soon you'll come back to me."


End file.
